


Take Me To Church

by frannyzooey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Western, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Multi, Oral Sex, Smut, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Western
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 65,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26464720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frannyzooey/pseuds/frannyzooey
Summary: Set in a brothel in the late 1800’s in the Wild West; you’ve only been working there for a month when Din Djarin shows up. A bounty hunter who makes stops into town between jobs, he is known at the inn for his generous appetite and demanding preferences. Asking for you one night, he is pleased to learn you are well suited for him: your sweet nature soothing to his gruff temperament and surprising him with your ability to handle his rougher tastes. Demanding that you be made available to him every time he is in town, neither one of you is ready for where this request leads.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Original Character(s), Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin & You
Comments: 87
Kudos: 142





	1. THE BEGINNING

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a multi-chapter fic, with 14 chapters written already and more to come! Enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE: THE BEGINNING 

The first time you see him in the brothel, you call dibs; your eyes fixed on the way his throat moves when he swallows his drink. The madam replies that you are too sweet for him – he needs experienced girls. 

“He’s more generous than you’ll ever meet when it comes to money, but his appetite and size are also generous.”, she says, giving you a lewd smirk. “I’m not sure you’re ready.”

A skeptical look on your face, your eyes follow his loose, slightly bowlegged gait up the stairs and into a room. Somewhat intimidated by her answer, but mostly intrigued, you decide to ask the other girls about him later. 

The next time he comes into town, he hears that you have been asking for him. Eyebrow raised in a question; he inquires if you’ll be able to handle him. His dark eyes study you from across the bar, watching as you chat with another girl; your face breaking into a smile at something she says. 

“All the men love how sweet she is.”, the madam replies, looking at you appraisingly. “I think you might like her.”

Keeping his eyes on you, he nods his head in approval before going back to his food. 

Slightly nervous as you are led upstairs, your stomach is tight with a mixture of excitement and anticipation as you listen closely to the madam explain how he likes things. Always two girls, always a bath first, always the whole night and the next day. You and Gracie, the friend you were chatting with, exchange looks. Most men only get an hour – he must really be generous if he gets the whole night. 

“The next day isn’t for him”, the madam tells you, beckoning someone through the door with the tub. “It’s for you, so you can rest.” Her eyes briefly settle on the two of you, her face serious. “You’ll need it.” Seeing to it that the tub is to be filled with alternating buckets of boiling and cool water, she rushes out of the room to get back downstairs. 

Your first time together is interrupted by a commotion in the next room – shouting; the sharp cry of a frightened woman. Fresh out of the bath with skin still damp, Din thrusts his legs into his pants and grabs his pistol, whipping the door open and barging into the next room. Chest flushed and heaving, his hair a wild mess; his eyes and hands are steady as he points his gun square at the man.

“I’m going to need you to get your things and get the fuck out.”

Glowering back at Din but deciding that he didn’t want to take his chances against someone pointing a gun at him, the man in the room quickly gathers his things before striding out. Lowering his pistol, Din reaches towards the girl, touching her thigh as she draws back further into the corner between the bed and the wall. 

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his eyes searching hers. 

Nodding her head yes, he looks at her for another moment before leaving her. Heading straight over to the railing, his fist clutching at his pants to hold them up, he leans his head over and hollers, “Someone bring this girl a drink!” Pausing for a moment to make sure someone heard him, he stalks back to his room, adding, “And give her the night off – I’ll pay for it!” before kicking his door shut with his foot. 

Agitated at being interrupted and also from the confrontation, he is rougher than usual – his hands gripping and pinching your thighs as he spreads you, his mouth sucking the soft skin of your neck and biting down hard before running his tongue over it. His body unsettled and restless, you work to absorb that energy into you, meeting it with your own soothing coos and soft, pliable body; letting him have you as many times as he needed before eventually calming down. Impressed with how sweet you truly were against his rougher nature and how well you took his demands, he made a silent note to speak to the madam about you; requesting that you always be made available to him in the future. 

You’ve gotten to know him better since that first night; visiting the inn every couple of weeks, he only asks for you and Gracie now. Going so far as to make it known that you are “his girl”, he will even come and get you if you are with another patron, including showing up one night right as you walked another man upstairs. Leading him into the room, you had the man sit on the edge of the mattress and dropping a pillow on the floor between his feet, you knelt between his spread thighs. Working his belt open, you startled at the door kicking open behind you, your patron protesting with a shout when Din strode in. Looking at the man with a challenging gaze, he bent down to gently grasp your elbow, pulling you up off the floor.

“You’re gonna have to find yourself another girl; this one here is mine.”

His grip still on your elbow, he pulled you towards the door as you looked back at the man and then up at Din, a slow smile spreading on your face as he led you to his room. 

On this night, word gets to the brothel quickly that Din is in town. A bounty hunter by profession, his first stop is the sheriff’s office: the settling of his quarries, the payment of services, the collection of flyers and other useful pieces of information. The time there always seeming to drag, he is impatient to see you and his replies eventually become one-word responses until the sheriff finally lets him go. Heading directly to the inn and seating himself at the bar, you watch as he orders his usual – whisky and a hot plate of whatever is available – and makes small talk with the barkeep; his hands pushing through his thick brown hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as he listens. Knowing you have some time before he’ll be done, you get yourself ready, asking someone to go get Gracie and requesting that the tub be brought to your room for filling. When he gets up to the room, you are already in it, cheeks pink with heat and Gracie perched on the side, soap and rag in hand. 

Savoring your touch after weeks spent alone, he likes you to take a bath with him until the water gets cold - his heavy weight leaning between your thighs, his broad back pressed into your front. Wrapping your slippery legs around his waist, you coax his head back to wash his hair; your nails dragging on his scalp as you work out the oil and dirt of a couple of weeks in the saddle. This is his favorite part, the way you massage his scalp and neck; you can tell from the deep groan of contentment that he lets out as he relaxes into your body and squeezes your legs under the water, running his palms up and down the length of your shins. 

When Gracie leans over with sudsy hands to wash his chest, he pulls her face down to his and kisses her, full and deep. Watching his tongue dart out into her open mouth before pressing his lips to hers, you can tell from the way he is shifting in the water that he is getting impatient for this bath to be done. With a full belly and a clean body, his hunger for the next part of the night shows. 

Once out of the tub and dried off by Gracie, he pulls you to him, his arms wrapping around your torso. “It’s been too long, girl.” His nose sliding up the side of your neck, his hand traveling down your back and over your hip; his thick fingers press into you and you arch into his touch. “I’ve been dreaming of that cunt of yours.” His other hand roughly grabbing the plump flesh of your ass, he leans his mouth down to your ear and murmurs, “Let me taste it.”

Positioning you on the mattress on all fours, he stands behind you and watches as you plant your knees wider on the bed; Gracie climbing up next to you, laying back against the pillows to watch. Spreading you with his hands, you feel the rough calloused skin of his thumb push into you, sliding down from your entrance to your clit and you feel his hot breath ghost across the back of your thighs as he leans closer. Replacing his thumb with his tongue, you drop your head down between your shoulders with a shaky exhale when you feel the first lick – the flat of his tongue running up the length of your cunt, his bottom lip dragging against you. Spreading you open further, he repeats the same wide, wet lick and you feel a deep contented groan vibrate against you as he slides his nose into your cunt to open it further for his mouth. Moaning into the bedding when he pushes his tongue into you, you hear a soft sound come from Gracie and look over at her just in time to see her slip her hands between her thighs; her eyes fluttering shut. 

Using his tongue to draw your arousal out, you feel how soaked you are when he pulls back and grips your hip to slide the heavy, blunt tip of his cock through your folds; pressing it against your clit before gliding it smoothly up to your entrance. Creeping his hand up your back and into your hair, he grabs a fistful of the thick locks and tugs on them; pulling your head up and back as he sinks into you. Squirming to adjust to how full he feels inside of you, you arch your back to give him deeper access and his grip tightens in your hair, the sharp pull on your scalp slightly painful as he pulls slowly out before pushing back in. 

Going slow at first to make sure that you are completely ready for him, he eventually lets go of your hair and presses down between your shoulder blades to push you further into the mattress as his strokes increase in pace; his hips sharp against your ass as his weight forces your legs open wider. He knows just how you like it by now, deep like this, and he smiles at the restless way your hands fist at the sheets, your muffled groans filling the room. His fingers curling around your hips, he focuses on the way you are squeezing him, your soft skin under his hands, the soft, hoarse sounds you make when he fucks you and he closes his eyes for a moment before turning his gaze to Gracie. Watching her fingers disappear into her soaked cunt, his lust blown eyes are fixated on how her fingers glisten with arousal and he reaches to roughly pull her thigh toward him, opening her legs wider. 

“Go ahead and spread those legs for me, Gracie.” His words clipped between heavy pants as he continues to thrust into you. “I wanna see you get that cunt nice and wet – you’re next.”

Even though he can see it with his own eyes, he dips his hand down to feel how wet she is, his fingers joining hers and she inhales sharply as he slides two fingers against her clit in time with the flexing of her hips. Watching her face for a moment before moving his hand away, he pulls you up and back against his chest with a grunt, his forearm locked tight around your front, the muscle taut under your hand as you hold onto him and he drags the fingers that were just in Gracie over your lips; his thick digits slick against your mouth. You open up, sucking his finger in and gliding your tongue over the rough pad of it before biting down, dragging your teeth over the skin.

You feel the stutter of his hips as he damn near comes at that, the boldness of the action in contrast with your usual sweetness, but he catches himself in time. Moving his damp hand away from your mouth, he brings it down to your folds, spreading them to reach your clit. Rubbing it in tight circles while he fucks up into you, your head lolls against his shoulder and he watches the way your mouth goes slack; your eyes shut tight, a tiny frown in your brow. When you open them, they are unfocused, unable to concentrate on anything but the way he feels heavy inside of you, the warm ache in your belly spreading through your hips and down as you are about to come. 

Pinching your chin with his damp fingers, he tilts your face towards Gracie, making sure she can see it before he speaks to her. 

“I’m gonna fuck you dumb, like your friend here.” Watching his thrusts getting harsher and deeper, she looks at your face and presses another finger inside herself, flexing her hips up to meet her hand with a moan as he continues talking. “Look at her; she can’t even think about anything but my cock buried deep.” 

Turning his attention back to you, his voice is low in your ear when he taunts, “Isn’t that right, girl? Go ahead – tell your friend how I feel inside of you.” A sharp whine crawls out of your throat as he presses and holds your clit, roughly gliding his fingers over it frantically as he shoves himself into you. “Tell her the reason I pay for you to rest the next day is because you can’t sit down without thinking of this fat cock buried so deep within you—”

Pulling up sharp and fast, you come around him with a cry, spurred on by the filth pouring out of his mouth. Still unable to articulate any words, you clench down on him and a soft moan slips out with every exhale, your nails digging into his forearm and thigh as you ride it out; his strokes still deep within you but slowing down in pace. Pulling away with a whimper when it gets to be too much, you sag forward and he lays you down gently on the bed, brushing your hair back from your face, kissing you sweetly on the mouth. “You did so good for me girl; so good. Now lay down – it’s your friends turn.”

Leaving you, you feel a dip in the mattress when he immediately crawls over to Gracie. Knocking her hand away from her soaked folds and keeping her legs spread wide, he kneels between them, his hand circling his length and lining up with her cunt. Dropping his weight onto his forearm, he slides into her in one stroke; one hand fisted into the bedding over her head and the other grabbing roughly at her breast, the flesh of it spilling out between his fingers. 

Pressing his mouth against her neck, his tongue sweeping over the skin, you watch as he buries himself into her over and over, the firm muscles of his back flexing with effort. You both know what she sounds like when she is close; her skin flushed with pink and the most delicate needy whimpers coming from her throat, you watch her hands settle on his ass, pulling him into her as her hips grind up into him and you see her body begin to tense against his. Reaching for her wrist and pinning it into the mattress above her head, he presses his weight into it and looks over at you. 

“How are you doing over there, girl?”

Gracie moans loudly at a particularly rough thrust and he turns back to her, clamping his hand tight over her mouth while continuing to push into her. Her eyes widen above his broad hand before rolling back, her brow bunched when they slide shut. Pressing a kiss over the top of his hand where her lips would be, he shushes her. “Shhh; I’m trying to talk to your friend here.” 

Turning his attention back to you, his request is punctuated with a soft grunt when he asks, “Think you can get me a hot rag, girl?” His thrusts getting sharper and deeper, his voice is strained and his breathing ragged when he continues. “I’m about to make a real mess of your friends’ cunt; I wanna have something handy to catch anything I don’t catch with my tongue.” 

At this, Gracie comes – her legs squeezing tight around his waist, her whines still muffled by his palm as her body arches underneath him. Digging her fingers into his sweat slicked lower back, he holds himself inside of her as he feels her cunt contract around him, a fresh release of arousal coating his cock and he stills for a moment before resuming a slow slide into her as she comes down from her peak. Her limp body sagging into the mattress, he wraps her arm around his neck and nuzzles his nose into the damp skin at her temple before slowly resuming his pace and asking you again to go get a rag. 

Your limbs still shaky from earlier, he watches as you slowly sit up and slide to the edge of the mattress, but it’s too late; he’s too close. Pulling out of Gracie and quickly climbing up over her body, he pinches her cheeks together until her mouth opens up and he shoves his cock between her lips, coming with a loud groan as soon as he feels her tongue slide against the head. Flexing his hips forward, he presses himself in deeper as he spurts into her mouth and you watch Gracie’s eyes look up at him as she swallows him down; her hands sliding up behind him to hold onto his hips as her tongue swirls around him until he is too sensitive and he sharply pulls away and slides out of her mouth.

Climbing up between the two of you and drawing your bodies close, he always sleeps like the dead after he is done with his first round. So different than the restless sleep he gets while camping out, he likes to be nestled between your warm bodies, holding you tightly to his front as Gracie wraps around his back. The first time he was with you and fell asleep like this, you fell asleep just as quickly; exhausted from all he demanded from you. Now with each visit, you will yourself to stay awake a little longer; your fingers delicately tracing his as he clutches you in his sleep. Thinking about how nice it is to have him holding you close, his soft, deep exhales gusting through your hair as his face is pressed into the strands, you eventually drift off to sleep with a small smile at the thought of him calling you “his girl”.

In the small hours of the morning, Gracie softly snoring next to him, you’re asleep on your stomach when you feel his heavy weight press you into the mattress as he climbs on top of you, his warm chest against your cool back. Sliding his hand up the back of your thigh, he pushes your leg to the side and settles himself between your legs. His hand is soft and slow as he strokes over your seam, gently parting you and dipping his fingers inside. Bringing the digits to his mouth, he coats them thoroughly with his saliva before bringing them back down to your cunt, easing them into you. Arching into his touch, you are half awake as you feel him push his fingers into you, slightly curling them inside before pulling them out; repeating the action over and over while you feel the soft tickle of his hair between your shoulder blades; the warm press of his mouth against your skin. When he is satisfied that you are ready for him, he pulls his fingers out and rubs your slick onto the head of his cock before lining up and pressing into you. Your mouth against the pillow, a soft groan works its way out at the stretch of him. Coupled with the weight of his body, his hot breath on the back of your neck, his lips delicately pressing into your skin, you feel overwhelmed and surrounded by him as he settles his mouth next to your ear to murmur his praise. 

“You’re such a good girl.” His forehead sliding against the soft skin on your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your skin. “You always take me so well, girl; you make me feel so good.”

Pushing against the mattress, you turn around and wrap your legs around his hips, flexing up to meet his slow thrusts. Grabbing his ass and pulling him deeper inside of you, you kiss him - a touch of your lips at first, but when his tongue glides against your bottom lip, you open your mouth wide to let him inside. Slanting his mouth over yours, he presses his tongue into yours with the rhythm of his thrusts and you swallow each other’s soft moans before he pulls back, whispering to you that when he comes back in a month, he is going to settle down in this town; build a house and take you home with him, keep you all to himself. 

You laugh lowly, your head tipped back into the pillow as he runs the tip of his nose against your throat. 

“They all say that.”

You feel him smile against your skin. “Yeah; you’re right.”

Pushing into you harder, he holds your shoulder as leverage to hit that deep spot inside and with each heavy thrust, he makes you repeat his words back to him, each statement sounding needier than the last: you tell him that no one fucks you like he does, that you aren’t going to be able to sit down tomorrow, that you can’t think about anything else when he is deep inside of you and lastly, that you’re his girl; only his girl.  
When you both come, he rests his head on your chest for a while, listening to the rapid thrumming of your heart as you stroke his soft hair away from his temple. Rising to get dressed in the hazy light of dawn, you watch as he searches for his clothes, his belt, his boots. Your eyes sliding shut, you feel him press a gentle kiss to your lips before slipping out of the room, shutting the door with a soft click as you roll over into Gracie’s warm heat and go back to sleep.


	2. THE KID

“Who is this?”, you ask Din; meeting him as he walks into the inn one afternoon, a small child trailing behind him. 

He motions for the boy to sit at the bar and you watch as he struggles slightly to climb up onto the stool, his short limbs only just long enough to hoist himself up. His small, solemn face peeks over the counter and his eyes take in the room slowly before turning to you. They are beautiful, big eyes; startling in their rich hazel color under his messy mop of dark waves and you smile at him; his own expression politely wary. A small bloom of jealousy spreads through your chest as you search his features for a resemblance to Din’s - you’re sure you would have remembered if Din said he had a family. Chiding yourself for feeling this sense of entitlement over a customer - for feeling anything at all about one - you quickly tamp down the feeling and lock it away. 

“This is the Kid – or, that’s what I’ve been calling him at least.” Pulling you to his side, Din ducks his head and presses a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment before pulling away. His deep brown eyes soft and tired looking, there is weariness etched into his face when talks to you, his voice is quiet, so the boy won’t overhear. “He won’t tell me his name yet, but I’m sure he will in time.”

Your mouth opening with more questions, he gives your hip a quick squeeze and subtly shakes his head. “I’ll tell you more upstairs, girl.”

Arranging for the boy to have a room for the night, you overhear the madam muttering under her breath as they argue. “This is no place for a child, Din.”, she chides, before you watch him press a sizeable sum of money into her hand, closing her fist around it. After that, you both watch as he is led away by a pack of cooing women; Din calling after them to make sure he eats all his dinner and gets a good scrub before going to bed. 

Sitting on Din’s lap in the bath, you wait patiently for his story as you soap him; your hands gliding down his long, lean arms; pressing your fingers in between his as you massage the soap into his hands. Not sure if he is waiting for Gracie to begin his story or if he is savoring the quiet, you stay silent and slide yourself forward on his thighs, wrapping your arms around him to scrub at the soft hair at the base of his neck. He leans into your chest, resting his forehead against your flushed skin as you work and when you try to pull back, he holds you tight in place. His hands splayed over your skin, you feel his mouth, warm and delicate on the swell of your chest while you soothingly brush his damp strands back with your hand. Another ache pings your chest; one of longing, at the way he is being so tender with you. You pull away from him just as Gracie walks into the room. 

Her bright, eager face smiling with the excitement of gossip, she sits down next to the tub and gives Din a kiss, leaning her chin on her palm to hear the story. Resting his hands on your hips in the water, he delicately skates them over your skin and begins his tale: 

Tracking a bounty about a hundred miles south of the town, he had hit a dead end in his search. Frustrated in his failure, he turned to double back to the last tavern he had visited to see if he could drum up any more information. He had been riding for about an hour when he heard a loud shot echo across a field, a small house and barn in the distance. Not uncommon to hear a gunshot – hunting, probably – he continued for a moment before hesitating, pulling the horse to a stop. The shot sounded off to him, too loud for hunting and he decided to ride over to the house to check and make sure everything was okay. 

In the house he found the kid: both parents, dead in their living room, while the quarry he was hunting held the boy in his grip. The two locked in a struggle; the child’s small body was wiggling and trying to worm out of his tight hold when Din walked up behind him and shot the man. The child bolted from the house and Din let him run, knowing that he just needed some time to calm down before Din would head out to find him. Covering the bodies with sheets he found in the bedroom, he rifled through their drawers to pack a bag for the kid; clothing, a blanket, some food from the kitchen, a picture from the bureau. Walking past his quarry with a deep sigh – the flyer in his saddle said “Alive”, not dead – he went after the boy. Taking a while to persuade him to come down out of the hay loft in the barn, his tear streaked face peering over the edge before scuttling back in the hidden corner, Din eventually convinced him. 

Gracie hanging on his every word, you study his face as he stops the story; his eyes distant, his hands absentmindedly kneading your flesh under the water. His expression sad but resigned, he lets out a deep exhale and a gives each of you a small smile when he notices your worried expressions. 

“He rode all the way here with me and wouldn’t leave my side at the sheriff’s office. They said I could turn him in, said there might be a place with the nuns, but I – well, he doesn’t want to go with them.” A smirk appears on his face as he reaches up and strokes the soft side of your breast, running his thumb over your nipple. “I don’t blame him. The nuns are a little too prim for me.” He winks.

“Well what are you going to do?”, Gracie asks, taking her chin off her hand and reaching for a rag. “You can’t just keep him, can you?”

“If he won’t go with the nuns and if his parents are gone, I guess he stays with me.”, he says, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Traveling with me; that’s no life for a kid - but I don’t know what else to do.” His hand still softly stroking your skin, he looks up at you with a small smile. “I guess from now on, wherever I go, he goes.”

Resuming the bath in distracted silence, you and Gracie are pulled from your thoughts when he pulls you closer to him, the water lapping against your skin, dripping down over your chest when he cups your face and pulls you in for a kiss. 

“Hey now”, he says softly, pulling away just enough for you to see his face. “Don’t worry about us. I’ll take good care of him.”

Nodding your head in agreement, he presses his lips to yours again, dipping his tongue into your mouth until you open up to him. His plush lips molding over yours, he lingers in the kiss and you feel his hips shift beneath you; his cock beginning to harden against your thigh. Giving you one last deep lick, his tongue swirling with yours, he pulls back and reclines against the back of the tub, dragging your center over his thick length. 

“I know what will cheer you ladies up.”, he says in a low voice, his hips flexing up into you; his eyes mischievous. “Wanna play a game?”

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A game with Din, you have come to learn, could mean different things depending on his mood. Sometimes it means an actual game; like the time he challenged the two of you to strip poker. Extreme in his confidence, he forgot that you and Gracie watch men play poker all day long; Gracie in particular picking up the tricks of the game quickly and the two of you were just as good, if not better, than most people.  
You soon had him down to his drawers while he loudly protested that you must be cheating by hiding cards under your clothes. Looking down at your nearly transparent silk shift with a laugh, you replied that you would gladly show him you were doing nothing of the sort. Tossing his cards on the table, the game was quickly forgotten as you both stripped and sat in his lap; eventually pulling him to bed. 

Tonight however, you can tell he doesn’t mean that kind of game. He means one of his games; the kind he makes the rules for. 

“Gracie is the bounty hunter.”, he explains, deftly buckling his heavy belt across her naked hips. Sagging low on her body with the weight of it, he checks to see that it’s fastened tight by dipping his fingers beneath the band of leather, brushing them through the soft tuft of hair over her mound that rests underneath. His heated expression makes her squirm under his gaze and he presses a kiss to her soft belly before standing up straight.

“And you, girl”, he says darkly, “That means you’re the quarry.” Your belly tight with excitement, you watch as he winds a length of rope around the width of his hand; holding your breath as he comes to stand right in front of you, his eyes slowly raking over your body. 

Letting the rope drag against the soft skin of your belly, he tells you to put your hands out in front of you. His work confident and quick, he binds your wrists together tight before tugging on the ropes, pulling you towards him. His hot breath ghosting over your neck, your body is tense with anticipation; his hooded eyes boring into yours. 

Dragging a chair to the middle of the room with a scrape across the floor and sitting down to observe how he has positioned the two of you, you feel arousal pooling deep in your belly at the sight of him: the soft light making his skin glow golden, his hair is damp from the bath with a rich brown curl over his brow; his eyes so dark they are almost black. Wearing nothing, he sits low on the chair as he palms himself, his thick cock resting heavily between his muscled thighs. Your eyes particularly lingering on the broadness of his shoulders and the trail of hair running down over his belly, you look over at Gracie and can tell she feels the same way; her own face flushed while she stares at him. 

His eyes on you, he gives himself a slight squeeze before motioning you to begin. “Now beg, girl.”

Gracie watches as you put on a show of struggling against the ropes, knowing what he likes to see. You plead, telling him he’s got the wrong person; that you’ll do anything to be let go. 

Getting harder by the minute, he circles his cock with his hand and presses it down into his thigh, a slight frown on his face as his breath hitches. His eyes are teasing but his voice is stern when he scolds you. “I think you can do better than that, girl.”

A smile tugs at your lips before you try again. “Please, please. Please just let me go, I – “

The door opens; the three of you turning your head at the sound. The madam, who heard pleading and became alarmed, has come up to check on you and she takes in the sight: Gracie, standing straight, her arms outstretched and her hands in the shape of a gun with the belt slung low on her hips, resting on the curve of her ass. Din, sitting in the chair, looking as collected as ever; his stiff cock barely concealed under his grip and you, your wrists bound tight, standing at the foot of the bed. 

Silence as she surveys the room and another girl walks behind her through the hallway, doing a double take and pausing to stare at Din. His voice is deep when it breaks the silence, winking at the girl with a smirk.

“Close the door.” 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Deciding he wasn’t satisfied with your begging, he pushes you back onto the bed and pins your hands above your head, beckoning Gracie to come hold them down while he spreads your legs open with his broad shoulders; his hot mouth dragging against the skin on your inner thighs before gliding his lips softly over your clit. Your hips jerking at the sensation, he presses your hips down on the bed with his forearm and is relentless in his teasing, paying attention to the way you clench around his tongue, your hips grinding into his face, your moans getting more and more breathless as you get closer to your peak.

Bringing you almost all the way there, he stops as he feels your thighs tighten under his grip and pulls back when you hoarsely cry out for him to continue but he doesn’t let you come until you beg him, this time for real; your voice raw with it. 

Your body still taut as the waves roll over you, his mouth is shiny with your slick when he immediately replaces his mouth with his fingers, sinking two into you before you come down from the first high. Feeling you clench down hard on the thick digits, he buries them down to the knuckle, his thumb gliding tight circles over your clit while his other hand pinches at the soft skin of your thigh, kneading it while watching your hips flex off the bed to meet his hand. 

“We don’t bargain with quarries, do we Gracie?”, Din asks, his voice a soft strain as he kneels between your legs, his fingers working inside of your soaked cunt, curling them to wring another orgasm out of you. 

Spread out before him, your head drops back on the pillow with an exhausted cry; your chest heaving with ragged breathing as you try to fight against the slow spread of warmth building between your hips and down. 

“Nope.” Her face a smirk; her eyes dark with lust as she leans her weight on your wrists. 

“Even if they look as sweet as this one.”, he says darkly, leaning down to hover over you and you can feel the heat rolling off his body as his fingers push in deeper. “Even when their cunts get as wet as this one when you make them come.” 

Arching against his hand, you come again; a whine crawling out of your throat as he rubs and rubs the same spot inside of you, his fingers impossibly deep. Watching your body writhe on the sheets, your hands flexing above the ropes, he draws his hand out of you, slippery with your slick and fists his cock, sliding it between your folds and pressing it down on your clit. Rubbing the blunt head of it against the bundle of nerves, he feels you tense your thighs around his and his voice is a low and seductive tease.

“Tell me, girl – do you want it? Are you ready to beg for it?”

Sliding his cock down from your clit, you feel him heavy against your entrance as pushes just the tip in; holding it there while you plead. 

“Please, please, I want it, I –"

Pushing his hips forward, his hand curls around your hip to keep you in place while he slides into you with a stretch. Moaning at the relief of finally being filled, you pull against the ropes as he crawls up over your body, winding your legs around his waist as he holds himself up with his hands before dropping down to his forearms. 

“You sound so nice, girl. I love it when you say please.”, he murmurs in your ear, grinding into you. He pulls out and slams back into you as your legs squeeze to draw him in deeper. He nuzzles your neck, dragging his nose over your throat and his harsh pants are hot against your skin as Gracie leans down and kisses you; her mouth plush and soft as her weight pushes your hands into the bedding. Her tongue swirling with yours, your cry is muffled by her mouth when he thrusts in deep.

“Hold her still for me Gracie; I think she might try to get away.” 

Your hips sore from being spread so long, sweat beaded on your lower back and your temples, you feel another wave of arousal flow through your limbs as he pounds his hips into you and you try to meet his thrusts under his heavy weight, but he grips your hip and holds it to the mattress; giving you no choice but to just take him. His hand sliding down from your hip to your ass, he pulls at the skin there with a burn while he nips at the spot where your shoulder meets your neck; his mouth wet against your skin before slowly sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. 

A whimper crawls out of your throat at the bite and the feeling of your walls starting to flutter around him as he puts his weight behind the thrusts, shoving his thick cock into you as hard as he can with every stroke. 

His mouth resting open on your collarbone, he groans at how tight you feel; how wet you are. “I’m not nearly finished with you, girl. I’m gonna get my fill before I turn you in.”

You are so full with how deep he is, held tight to the bed by the weight of his heavy body on yours, his hand pushing your hips down into the soft bedding as he fucks into you and you moan heavily when you feel yourself start to come again. Hitching your knees high around his torso, your heels rest on his lower back and you arch into him; a leaking wave of slick as you come around his cock with a tight squeeze. Palming your breast in his hand, he slides his grip up to your shoulder and uses it to drive himself deeper inside, his strokes hard and strong to wring every wave of release from you. 

“Fuck, fuck, you’re – you feel so fucking good, girl.”, he pants into your ear and it’s one stroke and then another before he holds himself tight inside when he comes; a deep groan against your neck as he spills into you. Fisting the cool sheets, he sinks the heavy weight of his body on top of you as he comes down, still holding your thighs open wide as he gets his last strokes in. You feel more than hear a deep hum vibrate from his chest as he gives your breast an open mouthed kiss, drawing the nipple into his mouth, gliding his tongue over the peak; his nose pressed into your skin and inhaling your scent as he tastes it.

Still resting his head against your chest, his hand slowly glides up and starts to fumble with the rope; Gracie helping as she slips your wrists out, massaging the tender skin. 

Your hair dark with sweat and your body limp under his, you are already slipping into sleep when you rest your hands on Din’s head, his soft hair gliding between your fingers and he reaches up and grabs one, nuzzling his nose into your palm; kissing the red marks around the delicate skin on your wrists. 

Your eyes sliding shut, you feel the catch and drag of his stubble on your hand, his lips dragging across the skin as he murmurs his praise. “You did so good for me, girl.” A kiss catching on your palm; his mouth brushing from side to side. “You play my games so well.” His wet tongue sliding against your wrist before pressing a kiss there, he smiles against your skin. “My girl; made just for me.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Halfway between sleep and waking, you lay there and listen. It’s late, the room thick with darkness; the candle having gone out long before. Feeling the mattress dip with movement next to you, you hear the low, bass tones of Din whispering in the dark and the higher, softer reply of Gracie.

A moment before your eyes adjust in the dark, you eventually see their shapes come into focus: the dark mop of wavy curls against Gracie’s skin as he slowly moves over her, pressing lingering kisses to her collarbone, shoulder, breast. Dragging the sharp profile of his nose over her hardened nipple, he looks up from his task. “You got another one for me, sweet girl?”

His hand moving beneath the blanket, you hear a soft cry of exhaustion from Gracie as she sags into her pillow, closing her eyes. The blanket rising and falling with the way he is working his fingers in her, he licks at the hollow of her throat, a little pool of sweat shimmering there and asks again. “You’ve been such a good girl and gave me two. Can you give me another?” Nipping at her jaw as a little frown appears between her brows, “I wanna see you come a third time, sweet girl. Can you do that for me?”

Her breathing slowing into the deeper rhythm of someone slipping into sleep, you reach over to brush Din’s hair out of his face and he leans into your touch with a smile.

“Come over here and leave her alone, baby.”, your voice going in and out, thick with sleep.

Leaning to gently kiss the tip of Gracie’s nose and then her lips, softly parted with sleep, he climbs off her and she immediately rolls to the side to relax into the bed.

Making room for him between your legs, he settles himself there and you feel his rough palm glide up the inside of your thigh as the heavy weight of his body presses into you. Having been particularity vigorous with you earlier, he is gentle in his explorations; softly cupping your center, stroking it with the flat of his fingers. Asking if you are okay with a slightly shameful look on his face, you reassure him with a nod and he pulls back the blanket from your body to see for himself.

Gently pressing his fingertips through the soft thatch of hair on your mound and down, he slowly parts you; immediately stopping at the way you stiffen when he presses a finger into you.

Snapping his focus back to your face, he eases the digit out before reaching up to stroke your cheek with his knuckles and cupping your face, he kisses you; once, twice, before pulling back and reaching down to stroke you again. Carefully keeping your gaze, he murmurs, “I’m just gonna use my tongue, okay?” He glances down to watch his broad hand move against you. “I just wanna kiss it.”

Achingly gentle with you, you let him: his tongue coated and dripping with saliva, soft, wide licks into your cunt as he keeps them parted with his fingers. Never pushing into you further and not using his hands in you, he keeps a steady, soothing pace as he glides his tongue through your slippery folds, your hands splayed through his thick hair; gently dragging your fingernails along his scalp as he works. Pulling his mouth away and pressing a kiss just over your entrance, he comes back up to you, searching for your lips with his own in the dark and you taste yourself in his mouth; a mixture of your own arousal and his, from earlier.

Guiding the tip of his cock into you and holding it there, he waits until you say it’s okay before he starts to stroke himself, keeping just the tip inside. Long, firm strokes that progress into faster ones while he rests his forehead in the crook of your neck, you feel his strained breaths coat your skin, his soft grunts intimate in the thick black of the room. 

Your thighs bracketing his hips and your hands resting along the flexed muscles of his sides, you feel his body grow tight with his release; his hand continuing to move as he spills only just inside of you. Using the last pulse to ease his way into you, he slides into your cunt with a smooth thrust, the passage thick with his come and he stays there as he lowers to rest his head on your cool chest.

Through his labored breathing, he leans up to kiss you, his mouth opening yours and licking deeply into it. Putting all his feeling behind the kiss, you hear a soft hum in his throat as he moves his mouth against yours, gently flexing his hips as he stays snug inside. Palming the heavy weight of your breast, he gently moves his kisses south: over the soft fuzz of your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your throat.

Feeling yourself slide back into sleep as your palms rest against his hot, firm skin, you let him continue his worshipping kisses, the tickle of his hair against your skin as he lays back down on your chest. Pressing a kiss to the swell of your breast, your eyes flutter shut as he softly strokes your skin with the pad of his thumb and you start to drift off under his comforting, heavy weight. 

“I’m gonna miss you, girl.”, he whispers, listening to your slow, rhythmic breathing. “I always miss you when I’m gone.”

Only just able to hear him, your chest aches with his words and you cup the back of his head in your hand, resting it there as you card through the strands with your fingers. You feel him lift his head to look up at you, but you are too tired to open your eyes. 

“Are you gonna miss me?”, he asks, sliding up your body to rest his face in the crook of your neck. You almost don’t answer, more asleep than not, but he smiles to himself when he feels you softly nod. Pressing a kiss to your cheek and then your lips, he lays back down on you, his hand reaching up to caress the hair at your temple and his own chest feels full at your admission. 

His nose sliding against the lobe of your ear, he whispers to himself in the dark. “I knew it.”


	3. THE SURPRISE

The tub filled with steaming water in the center of the room, the towels and soap to the side, Gracie immediately greets Din with a kiss and starts to remove his clothing while his eyes scan the room for you. Peering around her while her hands slide under his jacket to help pull it off, a frown appears on his face and when he opens his mouth, she already knows his question before he asks it.

“She’ll be here in a little while, baby”, she coos, tugging the fabric of his shirt free from the waist of his pants. “Let’s just get in the tub and get you cleaned up for her.”

Studying her face for more information, his jaw clenches and shifts with thought before he reluctantly complies. 

In the tub, his limbs are restless under her body – hands skating over her thighs, hips shifting under her weight. He seemed distracted when she makes small talk with him, only half paying attention.

“She isn’t with someone else, is she?”, he asks eventually, a scowl on his face. “I’ll go get her if she is.”

A small smile tugs at Gracie’s lips as she rises on her knees to reach his back with the rag. “No baby, she isn’t with anyone else. She knows you’re here.” Running her fingernails up through the edge of his hairline on the back of his neck, she scrubs at the dirt that is hidden there. “She’s just getting ready for you, that’s all.”

An impatient, petulant look darkens his features when he scoffs. “What’s there to get ready for?”

When she ignores this question, he realizes he is being unfairly rude to her and his face softens as he places his hands on her back, pulling her closer to him. Nuzzling his nose between her breasts and pressing a kiss to the swell of one, he is apologetic, yet still pouty when he grumbles, “I just want her in the bath with me; you don’t gotta get ready for that.”

Splaying her fingers up and through the back of his thick hair, she gives it a gentle tug, tipping his face towards the ceiling. He watches her for a moment before closing his eyes while she pours water through his locks, lightly moving the slick strands around to make sure it is saturated before working the soap into it; massaging out the weeks’ worth of sweat, oil and grime.

Leaning into her touch, he rests his head against her, enjoying the gentle vibration in her chest as she hums a tune while working. Using the cup to pour water over his head again, her touch is soothing as she rubs the soap out of his hair; the only sounds in the room being the gentle lapping of water as it runs down his back into the tub and her soft humming.

Hearing the soft click of the door opening, he opens his eyes and pulls back from her chest to greet you. 

“Here comes my gi—“, his greeting caught in his throat by the sight of you walking in. His expression frozen, he looks dumbstruck while he watches you close the door and you notice the bright brown of his eyes darken as his hand grips the rim of the tub.

Perching yourself on the edge next to his hand, his eyes travel over your body, taking you in. His eyes not able to settle on just one part of you, you watch as they roam up along the delicate silk of your stockings, taking in the neat little bows at the top of your thighs that hold the fine material in place, your skin peeking out for a couple of inches over the top. His gaze fixed for a second on the plush expanse of your thighs, he eventually moves it upwards to admire the rest of your outfit: a loose teddy, also made with silk, delicately resting on your curves. Tightening his grip on the basin, he watches your body shift under the thin fabric; the tips of your breasts only just visible through the material, the loose bottom of the garment gaping away from your backside as you sit.

Looking like he can’t decide what he wants to do first, he settles on skimming the tip of his finger along your flesh just over the top of the stocking, moving up towards the juncture of your thighs to gently lift the fabric of the teddy and peek under it. Finding you bare, a dark patch of hair just visible, he looks up as you squirm under his touch.

“Well, now,” he murmurs, his voice low with lust. “What is all this?”

Feeling your face flush under his admiring gaze, you watch his finger travel back down to the top of the stocking, hooking just under the fabric as he slides it back and forth slowly.

“I just thought I would wear something special for you.” Your eyes flick up to his. “Do you like it?”

“I think you know I do.”, he murmurs, sliding his hand up under the silk to stroke the soft skin of your backside.

Having felt him harden under her, Gracie reaches for his length and slowly circles her hand around it, stroking him gently under the water. Looking over at you, she smiles. “He has been asking for you this whole time.” Giving him a slight squeeze, she continues, “I can feel just how much he likes it.”

His eyes follow you as you stand up and make your way over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and leaning back onto your elbows. Putting one heel up on the edge of the mattress, you keep your eyes on his face as you slowly open your legs, letting the fabric of the teddy fall away from your center to the side. You see his throat work with a thick swallow and watch him immediately brace himself on the edge of the tub, rising to get out. Moving quickly, Gracie climbs out first and follows him with a towel; drying his body while he watches you, his expression serious and dark with want.

A slight smirk on your face, you reach down between your legs and toy with the fabric, slowly pushing it all the way to the side. Gliding two fingers through the hair over your mound, you keep your eyes on his as they stare at your hand and he gives you a warning look when your hand moves lower.

“Don’t you dare touch that cunt, girl.” His jaw clenching; his voice menacing. “It’s mine. Only I get to touch it.”

Stilling your hand for a moment, you ignore his order and press your fingers downward, running them down over your damp slit and moving back up; spreading your folds open to show him how wet you already are.

Unable to tear his gaze away from what your hand is doing, you can see the tension is his body he watches as you repeat the action again, this time dipping your fingers inside yourself before pulling them out to lightly circle your clit. Arching into your hand and letting out a soft whimper, you put on a show for him.

The mattress dips when he presses a knee between your legs and leans over you; his hands braced on either side of your shoulders as he cages you in. Feeling the heat rolling off his body, you close your eyes and feel a trickle of wetness escape onto your fingers when he leans in close to your ear. “You think this is a game, girl?” His hot breath fans over your face. “I told you not to touch it.”

You can’t help yourself and you press your fingers in deeper, focusing on the sound of his voice, the smell of his warm skin so close to you. Watching you tilt your hips upwards to meet your hand, he grips your hip with a bruising force, holding you down to the bed while you work yourself; your fingers glistening with slick.

Abruptly moving up and off you, he grabs a chair from the corner of the room and places it in front of the bed right in front of you and sits down. Leaning forward, he sets his warm hand on your knee and slides it up over the smooth fabric of your stocking; his rough palm catching on the fine fabric.

Pulling his hand away, he settles back in the chair and reaches for Gracie. When she lifts her leg to straddle him, he stops her and guides her between his legs, making her turn and face the bed. Running his hands over her hips, you can see his thick fingers curl around them as he strokes the skin there and you watch her eyes flutter shut as he presses soft kisses to her backside before pulling her down onto his lap. The plump flesh of her ass pressed against his hard cock and her legs open over his thighs, he reaches around to palm her breasts, pulling her back against his chest. His broad hands squeezing her, his thumbs stroking over her nipples, he looks over her shoulder at you.

Your fingers resting inside yourself, you watch his tanned forearm flex across her belly as he moves his hand down to her center, the muscles shifting under his skin as he extends his finger down along her seam, parting her and gently brushing over her clit. Gracie whines and her hips jolt forward with the touch, his other hand gripping her hip to steady her. Dipping into her to gather slick on his finger, he circles her clit slowly as her legs open wider and her head lolls back onto his shoulder.

“Does that feel good, Gracie?” he asks, dipping down to gather more wetness before continuing to circle the bundle of nerves within her folds.

“Yes”, she whimpers, eyes closed tight; her fingers digging into his spread thighs.

Keeping his eyes on your face, he moves his hand down further and presses two fingers deep inside of her; a keening moan coming out of her open mouth as her body tries to fold in on itself.

Your eyes focused on the way his hand is moving inside of her, your own hand forgotten between your legs, you feel your face flush with heat as he continues to focus on you; his eyes never leaving your face, his features set in a sinful, knowing expression. Wetly pulling his hand from Gracie’s cunt, he moves his hands to her back and gently presses her forward until her hands are on the mattress between your legs. You can feel the hot pants of her breath through your stockings and you see the thin fabric of your teddy move at the gusts of air as your cunt clenches at the feeling of her breath skating over your soaked center.

Keeping her there, he shifts down lower in the chair and grasps his heavy length firm in his hand, pulling it up between her legs and pushing the tip of it against her clit. Fisting her hands in the sheets, she tips her pelvis back to open herself to him and when he presses his cock into her, the movement shifts her slightly up the mattress, her face inches from your folds.

Flexing his hips upwards and then pulling them back, he slowly fucks into her, pushing down on her back to keep her trapped against the bed. Watching his length disappear inside of her once, twice, he shifts his gaze up to you, a small smile on his face when he sees how close Gracie’s face is between your spread thighs, the skin of your chest flushed above the cool, silky fabric of your outfit.

Grasping her by her elbows, he pulls her up and back onto his chest, leaning back so she is reclined against him. One hand circling her throat and the other spreading her to rub her clit in time with his thrusts, he watches you resume touching yourself; your eyes fixed on the spot where their bodies are joined.

Gracie digging sharply into his thighs with her head tipped back against his shoulder, her face screwed up with pleasure, he leans in to suck her earlobe into his mouth, biting on it softly before letting it go. Keeping his mouth right next to her ear but his eyes on you, he asks her again how good it feels.

“So – it’s so good”, she barely gets out between pants, her hips rolling against his.

His eyes rove between your face and your hands, watching the silk crotch of your outfit darken with your slick and he is scolding when he speaks to you. “This could be you girl, if only you listened to me.” Sliding his hand down from Gracie’s throat to her hip, his hand stretches wide across her skin and presses low on her belly as he flexes his hips up. His fingers still circling her clit, Gracie leans forward bracing one hand on your knee and the other on the mattress, letting out a whine at the pressure.

“Tell her how full you feel, Gracie.”, he taunts while thrusting his thick cock into her, all the way down to the base. “Tell her how hard I’m gonna make you come.” He feels Gracie clench around his cock, a fresh wave of arousal releasing at his words and she cries out as she tries to get purchase on your leg but can’t because of the slippery silk.

“Those stockings, Gracie”, he grits out as he fucks up into her, “aren’t they nice?” Panting with effort, his belly cinching with every thrust upwards, “Touch them – tell me how they feel.”

You sit up and slide to the edge of the mattress, as Gracie adjusts her hold, placing a hand on each of your thighs. Putting your hands on her shoulders, she leans into you, rocking forward with each one of Din’s thrusts.

“Gracie”, he commands sharply. “I told you to tell her how full you feel with my cock in you like this. How hard I’m gonna make you come.”

You reach up to brush her hair back out of her eyes as she pants out, “I’m – I’m so full.” Licking her lips and swallowing thickly, she looks at you with pleading eyes when she moans, “I’m gonna come”. You look at her, nodding sweetly in understanding before capturing her open mouth in a kiss and continue to hold her as Din leans forward to press her belly down against him, triggering her peak. 

Digging her nails into your stockings, she bears down hard on his cock and comes with a cry into your mouth, her eyes closed and her hips moving of their own accord as she rides through it. Din keeps his hand tight against her, thrusting into her sharply as you brace her body upright with each shove. Still keeping his fingers on her clit, she whimpers when it becomes too sensitive, pulling away from you and reaching down to brush his hand away. Slowing his thrusts down, he massages the muscles in her back as he helps her ease off him and watches as she crawls onto the bed to catch her breath before turning his attention to you.

Nervously watching him, you try to slide back further on the bed and he quickly lunges to grasp your ankle, but it slips through his hand. Dropping down onto the floor, his torso between your knees, he digs his fingers into your thighs above the stockings and slides you closer to him, roughly shoving the soaked crotch of your outfit to the side and putting his mouth on you. Leaning back on your hands, you press your cunt closer to his face as his tongue slides deeply into you with a groan; his hands roaming up around your ass and under the silk, clutching at your lower back to bring you closer.

Grinding your hips against his face, you can feel the bridge of his nose sliding into you as he spreads you open as wide as he can, the stubble on his chin catching at your entrance; a low groan vibrating into your core from his throat.

A rush of wetness floods into his mouth and you watch his throat work as he drinks it down. Tipping your head up towards the ceiling, the sight too much, he stops and pulls back. “Keep your eyes on me, girl. I want to see your face when I make you come.”

Sliding your hand into his thick curls, you wrap your legs over his shoulders, putting your feet on his back to draw him closer and he reaches up to run his hand along the slippery silk encasing your thigh while the other hand pulls you tight to his face. Feeling the heat build low in your hips, you press into his open mouth and focus on the firm licks he is giving your clit. He does it again and again and you come into his mouth with a cry; your thighs clamped tight around his head, tugging his hair sharply as he laps into you.

Not giving you a chance to come down, he pulls back and swiftly stands up, grabbing the back of your knees and forcing you onto your back. Holding your thighs together, he puts one knee up on the mattress and guides himself into you; shoving you up the bed with a sharp thrust. Pushing your knees towards your chest and leaning his weight into them, he slides his hands up under the back of the stockings to keep you like that as his hips snap into you, filling you over and over. He looks possessed, his eyes glazed with lust, a curl of hair over his brow and you restlessly fist the sheets on the bed, trying to arch up into up into the feeling but are trapped between the mattress and the heavy weight of his body.

Your first peak cresting into a second one at the way he is stroking against something so deep inside you, he can feel your walls flutter around his thick cock as he slips his hand out of the stocking and his nails drag across your skin when he roughly pulls the front of your teddy down to watch as your breasts bounce with every sharp thrust. The pressure of him is overwhelming and your voice is hoarse when you cry out, feeling yourself tip over the edge. At the feeling of your wet heat squeezing him so tightly, he comes; groaning as he works the first spurt of come deep into your soaked cunt, followed by the rest; spilling deep inside of you.

Easing his weight off you, he pulls out and watches a rush of milky, mixed arousal spill out of you, dripping down the swell of your ass. A shuddering, ragged whimper at the sight, he undoes the bow of one stocking, sliding it off your leg and uses it to wipe the come off of your skin. Gently cleaning you off, he delicately does the same to himself before tossing it on the floor and climbing into the bed with the both of you.

In the bed, he pulls you to him; your back to his front and he can’t stop his hands from sliding over your body; enjoying the feeling of your warm heat under the silk. Feeling the fabric bunch and shift under his touch, he can’t get enough of the feeling and even as he falls asleep, his hands roam until they stop.

__

In the night, you admire him in the dark. He looks like a boy, with his hair mussed and his jaw slack, sleeping with you clutched to his chest. You skim your finger over the shape of his lips, admiring his profile. Keeping his eyes closed, he smiles against your fingertip as he wakes and reaches up to hold your hand, pressing a kiss to it. When you whisper to him to go back to sleep, he answers with a hum and rests the heavy weight of his arm over you, drawing you closer.

His dry, warm hand stroking your soft skin, he lets it roam over your hip and up the naked skin of your back, pleased to find you have taken off your outfit in the night. His voice is impossibly deep in the dark of the room and thick with sleep when he talks to you. “I liked what you were wearing earlier, but I think this is my favorite girl.”

Running his hands down your back, he strokes the smooth skin of your backside and pulls your leg over his hip, rolling you onto the mattress; his heavy, hot body resting on top of you as you make room for him between your legs. Ghosting the tip of his nose along your neck, he palms your heavy breast, his hand covering the whole of it before moving around to your side and down, guiding himself into you with a soft grunt.

“I just wanna feel you, girl”, he murmurs into your skin, pressing a kiss to your throat. “When I think about you while I’m away, I want to remember you just like this.” His strokes are languid and smooth inside of you and you wrap your arms around his neck when you pull him in for a kiss. His mouth slanting over yours, he licks into your mouth and swallows your moans at his deep, aching thrusts. Rocking into you, he pulls away and whispers into the skin of your neck. “You’re so good to me, girl. I just want to make you feel good.” One deep stroke; another. “Does this feel good?”

“Yes”, you whisper back, with a nod against his temple. “You always do.”


	4. THE UNION SUIT

“Oh my god”, you exclaim softly, as you sit up in bed to watch Din get dressed before he heads out. The shape of his broad shoulders visible through the thin red fabric, you follow the length of his body down, the material snug around his firm backside, tight to the shape of his thighs and calves.

“What?”, he asks, turning towards you with a questioning frown on his face and your breath catches when you see the front of the suit. Watching his deft fingers fasten two buttons over his chest, you bite your lip at the way the wool is somehow even tighter in the front. The fabric pushed up over his forearms, the muscles there flex thick and strong under their fine dusting of hair. You focus there for a moment before letting your eyes wander over the slight dip of his hips, the stretch of the material over his taut belly and up towards his chest; the neckline dipping low enough to see a peek of his collarbones. The top button undone, you follow the line of them down, six buttons in all; the last one directly over his crotch.

Unable to take your eyes off of how he seems somehow even more naked wearing the suit, you are breathless when you ask, “What is that?”

A deep frown etched into his brow, he stands there and looks down the length of his body.

“What is what?”, he asks, looking back up at you.

Your eyes are fixed on the top undone button. “That thing you’re wearing.”

Peering at you like you’ve gone dumb; he picks up his thick socks and sits down in a chair. Opening the folded bundle in his hands, he answers, “My union suit, girl. My long underwear.”

Crawling out of bed, you go to stand between his legs and slowly kneel in front of him, placing your hands on his knees and pulling them open.

Pushing your hair away from your brow and tucking it softly behind your ear, he watches you with puzzled amusement as you run your palms up and down his thighs. “What are you doing, girl? Didn’t you get enough last night? Or this morning?”

The suit slightly riding up as he sat down, you felt your cunt clench at the way his thighs strained through the fabric; the soft folds of it gathered tight around his crotch. Realizing that this must have been what he felt like when you wore your silk outfit for him the other day, you can’t stop yourself from splaying your hands over the material; slightly squeezing the firm muscles underneath as you slide your hands up between his thighs.

“Are you serious right now, girl?”, he asks in a low voice, shifting his hips down in the chair to open his legs wider. Scooting forward a little on the hard floor, you get closer to the juncture of the suit and gently place your palm over the bottom button, gently pressing into him with the heel of your hand.

You can feel the soft length of his cock right under your palm, yielding to your touch and you wrap your hand around it; your fingers gliding over the swell as your thumb presses inward along the length.

Stiffening under your exploration, you watch in fascination as the fabric shifts under your gaze; the bulge under your hand slowly hardening. You keep stroking him through the fabric until he is fully hard, the defined shape of his cock visible through the tight wool and you feel your mouth water as your tongue pokes out to lick your lips.

Reaching down, he places his thumb on your plump bottom lip, resting it in the middle and waits for you to take it into your mouth.

Looking up at him, you suck on the pad of his thumb hard, dragging your wet, warm tongue over it as you watch his eyes darken. Leaning back, you let it fall out of your mouth and he watches as a fine, glistening string of saliva trails between the tip and your mouth.

Sticking your tongue out to break it, you lean forward and opening wide, your put your hot mouth over the tip of his cock, letting your saliva dampen the fabric as his hips jolt forward in the chair. Giving it a slow, firm kiss, he can feel the heat of your mouth through the wool and you watch as a small wet spot appears as a spurt of precome dribbles out.

Gliding the tip of your nose from the base up the thick length, you ask him to help you with the buttons and he does; slowly undoing them one at a time as you watch. The smooth, tan skin of his sternum slowly appears with every undone button and you watch, hypnotized. The opening goes lower over his stomach; the dark, coarse hair of his belly peeking out above the vee of fabric.

Knowing exactly what this is doing to you, he watches you squeeze your thighs tightly together and shift your bottom on your heels; squirming as the deep ache in your center worsens. The undoing of the second from last button makes the the fabric gape away from his stomach as he slouches in the chair, a thicker thatch of dark hair exposed. His hand pauses over the last button for a moment and you watch his thick, calloused fingers undo it; his eyes on your face.

Your mouth hanging slightly open as you wait for him, he works the button open and you can just see the smooth skin of his heavy cock tucked under the fabric. Pulling again on your bottom lip, he presses his thumb back into your mouth and his voice is low and sinful when he speaks.

“Well what are you waiting for, girl? Take it out.”


	5. THE HILL

It’s the late afternoon, just before dinner, when you wake up to Gracie lightly shaking your shoulder.

“Hey, you gotta wake up, sweetie”, she says quietly, drawing her hand back to give you some space. “Din is here.”

Blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from your eyes, you turn your face towards her and hum a stretch out, your arms extending in front of you. “Ok, sounds good.” Looking at her more clearly now, “You gonna get the tub or do you want me to do it?”

“Madam says he only wants you tonight”, she says, shrugging her shoulders. “I think he’s hurt. He didn’t look too great coming in.”

Frowning slightly, you sit up on your elbows in bed, rubbing one eye with the heel of your hand. He must be hurt; you’ve never heard of Din only wanting one girl.

“Okay, tell her I’m up. And tell her to get the tub sorted – I’ve got to get ready.”

Gracie dunks out of the room with a quick nod of her head, shutting the door behind her.

In a distracted state of worry, you get everything set up; the tub brought into the room and slowly filled, the rags and soap set on the dresser.

Sitting on the edge of your bed in your silk shift, you wait for him and it’s apparent when he walks through the door that there is something wrong. He greets you with a slow smile that spreads across his features, seeing you sitting on the bed all pretty and soft for him and you shyly smile back, a look of concern flashing across your face when you see him wince at sliding his arm out of his jacket.

“What happened to you?”, you ask, kneeling on the floor to help him get his boots off.

He doesn’t answer you until he settles into the tub; his normal groan of contentment replaced with a look of discomfort and a sharp intake of breath as he settles against the back. Discarding your shift, he watches you with heated eyes as you step in and gingerly settle on top of him, watching his face for any sign of hurt.

A look of impatience flashing across his features, he grabs your hips under the water and pulls you down on top of his lap, pressing your bodies together. “I’m not gonna break, girl.”

“Seems like you are”, you reply, lathering the soap in your hands and shifting your hips to get more comfortable. “What happened?”

Leaning back against the tub with a deep sigh, he tells you: tracking a bounty about 60 miles from here, he was up in the hills, camping with the kid. His bounty had been evading him for a week when Din heard that he was traveling to a nearby town to settle a gambling debt. Setting up his camp near the road to town, he told the kid his plan – to ambush the quarry - and told him that under no circumstances was he to come out from behind the bushes, where the tent was.

That afternoon, seeing the bounty approach on horseback, Din leapt out onto the path and pulled him down off his horse. A fight ensued, of which Din had the upper hand, until the kid jumped out of the bushes; afraid that the man was going to kill Din. He thought he would help by distracting the man, but the only person who was distracted was Din – he turned to push the kid away and the bounty kicked him hard in the back, sending him down the steep hill, rolling down over the sharp rocks and jutting earth. It didn’t even matter in the end; the bounty ended up getting killed that night over the same debt. All that work for nothing.

“Just a few deep scratches; mostly sore muscles”, he finishes, while you rub his shoulders and the plane of his chest with soap, watching the white bubbles gather on his tanned skin.

Squeezing your flesh under water with a gleam in his eye, he teases, “Seems like you’re going to have to go easy on me tonight.”

“Go easy? On you?”, your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Maybe I have the mind to pay you back for everything you’ve ever done to me.” You grin back at him while pretending to stroke your chin in thought.

His eyebrows furrow in mock concern. “And what have I ever done to you?”

When you don’t answer, he sits up fast in the tub, snatching your wrist and sending a wave of water over the sides. Startled, you think this must be how is bounties feel; he is so much faster than you would have thought. Holding his face close to yours, his gaze is dark as his grip on your wrist tightens and then relaxes, cradling your hand against his chest. Keeping his eyes on yours, he murmurs, “Tell me my transgressions. Have I been too rough with you?”

His deep brown eyes search yours, his face serious.

“No”, you whisper. “Well, yes, but I liked it.”

He keeps his eyes on yours to sense if you are truthful or not and watches a slow smile tug at your lips as you shyly look back. 

Leaning back into the water with a smirk of his own, he winks at you as he settles in. “I knew you did.”

The rest of the bath is spent in quiet contentment, his eyes closed as you rub his muscles down with long massaging strokes, soaping the caked dirt from his creases. His hands are always roving under the surface of the water – stroking the soft skin of your belly, gliding over the tops of your thighs and up around your hips, grabbing handfuls of flesh on your backside and squeezing lightly.

When you raise up on your knees to wash his hair, you kiss him, gently using your hand to tip his head back as he opens his mouth to you. Breaking away to rub the soap into his wet strands, your chest is perfectly in line with his mouth and he uses both of his hands to hold the weight of your breasts in his palms, his fingers gliding over them, squeezing them lightly. You lean closer to drag your nails against his scalp and you feel the vibration of his pleased hum as he draws one of your nipples deep into his mouth, licking the peak of it with the flat of his tongue. His thumb slides over your other nipple once, twice; slippery with the bath water and you feel his hardening cock press against the soft inside of your thigh.

When he looks up at you from your chest, you motion for him to dunk his head under the water to rinse the soap, sliding back on his thighs to give him space. When he does, you watch the suds rise to the top of the surface; your hands softly stroking his belly under the water. Sitting back up and wiping the cool water out of his eyes, you hand him a towel to dry his face with.

Running the towel over his hair and then tossing it on the floor, he reaches for you and pulls you back to him. “Let’s get out of this tub, girl. It’s been too long since I’ve tasted you.”

____

In the bed, you try to take it easy on him when he lays down and pulls you on top of him; your thighs pressed against his cheeks as he licks up into you. While normally you would put your whole weight on his face like you know he likes, you try to hang onto the metal frame of the bed to support yourself this time. Extending his neck under you, he seeks your warmth out, pressing his face deeper into your cunt, sliding the whole of his tongue flat against you. Slipping it inside you for a moment, you feel the bridge of his nose glide across your clit before he seeks it out with his lips; kissing it softly before licking into you again.

Grabbing your hips and pulling you down on top of his chin, you lean into the wetness of his mouth for a moment before raising up again and you feel a deep groan of frustration against your sensitive folds as he pulls you back down against his face. Not being able to lap into you as deep as he likes, he taps at your hip and you climb off, sliding slowly down his chest. Grabbing you halfway down, he leans up to kiss you deeply, pressing his thumb into your chin to pull your mouth open for him and he repeats the motions he was just using in your folds; long, deep licks into your mouth, his tongue swirling with yours. Letting you go, you keep sliding down his body and as the air hits it, he can feel a cool trail of wetness on his chest and belly from where your center dragged against his skin.

Watching his face carefully, you straddle his lap, reaching down between the two of you and press his thick cock up against his belly. Arching up into your touch, he grunts at the contact, a small frown appearing on his brow as you draw your hand back, replacing it with your cunt; your folds spreading around the underside. You gently rock back and forth a few times, rolling your hips over him, soaking him with your slick and you watch his head press back into the pillow with a low groan; the long, lean line of his neck filled with tension and on display.

His thick fingers circling your hips, he moves you faster against him and when you slide over the tip of him, he tries to press into you, but you pull back and a groan of impatience vibrates from his chest.

“Is this how you decided you’re gonna pay me back for all the things I’ve done to you? By teasing me?”

Running his hands on the inside of your thighs to spread you wider over his hips, he sits up with a cinch of his stomach until his face is in front of yours.

“You never did tell me what I did, though I think I can guess it.” His thumbs pushing into the soft skin of your thighs, you squirm over him; your cunt clenching around emptiness at the sound of his deep, husky voice.

Flipping his hand over and using two fingers to stroke your center, he presses his fingers inside when murmuring his words. “Did I fill this tight cunt up too full? Did I make you come too many times, girl?”

You can only answer with a keening whine, a slow roll of your hips when you try to push yourself down onto his fingers.

“Oh, I know”, he says, the low vibration of his voice making your nipples tingle. “I bet I ruined you for other men.” Sliding his fingers inside of you as far as they can go, you thrust your hips forward to relieve the pressure of the stretch. “No one else can get as deep as I can, can they girl?”

His fingers holding inside of you, he adds his thumb to your clit and slides the pad of his thumb over it; your slickness making it glide just right. You nod dumbly at his question, but that isn’t enough.

“Say it, girl. Can anyone get as deep as I can inside this cunt?”, his voice is menacing, his rich brown eyes, almost black, watching your face as you try to speak.

“No”, you answer softly, your voice straining. Swallowing thickly, you try again. “No; no one can get as deep as you can.” Riding his hand, you close your eyes and focus on the thick feeling of fullness inside of you; his thumb moving over you.

A pleased smile is on his face as he leans closer to you and he presses his mouth against your throat; an open kiss that tastes your skin. “That’s right”, he whispers in your ear. “That’s because you’re my girl. Your cunt was made just for me.”

Removing his fingers, but keeping his thumb on your clit, he uses his other hand to line himself up with your entrance and pushes his cock in, forcing you to lean into him as you adjust around the fullness. Laying back down on the pillow and pulling you down with him, he guides your hips with his hands, his hips spreading you wide and his grip tight on your skin. “Show me, girl. Show me how you were made just for me.”

—

The next morning, he sleeps longer than usual. Curled into your heat, his body is wrapped around yours: on your sides facing each other, his legs entwined with your one while the other is hitched up on his hip; his arms wrapped around you tight, his face in the damp crook of your neck. You wake first and you can tell he is still asleep from his deep, rhythmic breathing. You lay there, feeling his heart beat against yours, softly stroking his silky hair, gently twirling the curls around your finger while you wait for him to wake up.

You think about how he got hurt, how worried the kid was for him, how worried you always are for him and you let the heavy ache in your chest settle there as you stroke the hair at his temple. He is so beautiful, you think, as you admire his long lashes resting against his cheeks; his dark moustache over his lips, softly parted in sleep. You picture his face as you saw it last night; flushed and panting under you, his mouth wide open with a groan as you rode him.

His words come back to you, his voice strained and raw when he told you what a good girl you were for him, how good you felt around him, how he would do anything to stay right here with you. A flush washing over your body, you feel the pools of sweat gathered where your skin is pressed together and a low heat blooms in your belly.

He shifts and inhales deeply, pulling himself out of sleep, pressing a thick kiss to your throat with a hum. Running his palm over your side and stretching at the same time, he keeps his face buried in your neck while he smooths over your skin with his warm, dry hand; the callouses on the pads dragging against your skin. You can feel how hard he is with your bodies pressed together like this and it doesn’t take much for him to slip inside of you, with your leg already hitched around his hip. Pulling the crook of your knee, he tugs it higher as he pushes in deeper with a flex and your hand reaches down to grab his backside and pull him into you.

The strokes are lazy and long, deep and filling and his mouth tastes your throat, the side of your neck, your cheek before finding your mouth. You nibble his lips, your tongue peeking out to lick them and he responds to your searching mouth with his own, sucking your lower lip into his and running his tongue along it. When he lets go, you kiss him with a renewed intensity; your mouth opening wide and your hips thrusting against his harder.

He places his hand against the small of your back to help you and with the increased speed of his strokes, you can’t even kiss anymore; your jaws slack with pleasure, your whimpers mixed with his soft grunts. Feeling his thrusts getting sloppier and his grip on your back getting tighter, you know he is close, and you bare down on him with your walls to give him a firm squeeze.

He responds by reaching up to grab your hair, grasping the strands and pulling them hard, forcing your head up as your body rocks up the pillow with the force of his hips. Crying out, you keep squeezing him until you feel your own peak – a small flutter before the actual thing envelops you; your leg tight around his waist as you hold him as deep inside of you as you can.

His hips tight against yours, unable to pull back with how tightly you are squeezing him, it triggers his own release to feel you come around him and his firm muscles are taut against you as he presses your throat to his mouth with a deep groan. Tugging sharply on your hair as he thrusts in once, twice more, he spills deep inside of you as you both gently roll your hips against each other.

His grip on your hair relaxing, you feel his tongue laving over your throat, gathering the sweat that collected there. Pressing thick kisses to your skin, he rubs your hip and your thigh, sore from being spread so wide and you both lay there for a moment to gather yourselves, not wanting to get up.

Eventually, he speaks. “Good morning, girl”, his voice husky with sleep, his eyes smiling at you, his head on the pillow next to yours. “Wish I could wake up like that every morning”, his eyebrows wiggling at you until you laugh.

“Yes, that would be nice”, you reply, gently massaging his shoulder. When he winces at the stiff muscle, you press harder into it before rubbing it softly with your hand. “You gonna be okay?”

A look of annoyance rooted in pride flashes across his face, a smile tugging at his lips at the way you are babying him. “I’ll survive, girl.” His arm pulls you closer, sliding you under him while he lays his head on your chest. “I’m tougher than that.”

You smile at his statement in relation to the way he is resting on you like a little boy and say nothing, stroking the crown of his mussed hair.

“What about the kid? You think he’ll be okay?”, you ask.

A deep sigh makes his shoulders rise and fall and you can tell he is thinking before he speaks. “He’ll be alright. He got scared, but we had a talk. He won’t do it again.”

“Maybe you outta think about settling down with him”, you say gently. Watching his body to see if he is listening, you continue. “You said so yourself; your—“

He looks up at you, cutting you off. “You mean to scold me like a wife, girl?” He says it playfully, but you can tell he is defensive in his guilt over what happened. Recognizing that he is trying to change the subject, you humor him.

“Maybe”, you say, tugging a curl with your fingers. “Or maybe I’m scolding you like someone who cares about you and that boy.”

He looks at you for a moment, his face in thought, his eyes roving over your face. Stroking your cheek softly with his knuckles, he slides up your body; his breath fanning over your face. Rocking his hips against your leg, his voice is a suggestive whisper in your ear. “Keep scolding me, girl. I think I like it.”

Dropping the subject of the kid for now, you grab his chin between your fingers, pinching it slightly as you draw his face to yours. In a stern voice, you repeat his words from yesterday. “I knew you did.”

—

Downstairs, you stand at the bar, wrapped in your silk robe as he gathers the food supplies and packs them into his satchel. Admiring the deft way his hands buckle the sack, you tell him to be more careful the next time he tries to ensnare another bounty. And to stay away from any plan that involves making a camp on a hillside.

“Very funny”, he says dryly, looking at the kid standing next to him. “This girl thinks she’s funny.”

Drawing you into his arms, he presses his nose into the soft strands of your hair, sliding his cheek against them as he holds you tight. You let him hold you, leaning into his warm body before pulling him in for kiss. A soft thing, barely brushing his lips against yours, he deepens it as he pulls you tighter; his hands firm across your back. Gliding his tongue over your bottom lip, he slowly breaks the kiss, his hand sliding down your back until it cups your bottom; grabbing it with a wink.

When Din walks over to the bulletin board to peruse the bounty flyers, you lean down to the kid and fiddle with the knot in the green bandana tied around his neck as he looks at you with a curious expression on his face.

“You; you make sure you watch out for your papa.” He nods, taking the words seriously. “And if he tells you to hide; you hide. Okay?” He nods again and you smooth the fabric under his chin against his chest and smile at him, waiting for him to smile back.

“You better go – I think he’s waiting for you outside.”

You watch them leave together – Din handing the flyers to the kid first and then lifting him up into his saddle before getting into his own, their legs dangling on the sides of their horses as they slowly meander out of your sight.

Stifling a yawn, you make your way back upstairs; a smile spreading when you remember you have the day off.


	6. THE HENHOUSE

His warm, dry hand curled over your hip, he leans in to press a kiss to your throat; mouthing the skin there for a moment before pulling back with a smile.

“Come on, girl; tell me.”

You smile back, your cheeks hot with embarrassment. “You’re just gonna laugh at me.”, you say, reaching to brush a lock of hair away from his brow.

His eyebrows drop into a stern frown; his voice solemn. “Never.”

Rolling your eyes, you bite your lip in thought for a moment before you speak.

“Okay, fine. Chickens.”

His brow shoots up in shock before his face breaks out in a grin; his shining eyes lighting up as he lets out a deep belly laugh and quake of his body shakes yours as you lay next to him.

“See!”, slapping his shoulder lightly, your voice playfully outraged. “I told you you would laugh!”

Still chuckling under his breath, he searches your face for the truth and a fresh wave of laughter bubbles up when he sees you are serious.

“Chickens, girl? You’re afraid of chickens?” His hand moves to stroke your cheek with the back of his knuckles, but you sharply pull it away from his reach as he grins at you. “What’s a little chicken gonna do to you?”

“I don’t know! Nothing, probably!”, you exclaim, your own face serious against his delighted one. “I just don’t like how they move. They’re so skittish and fast! And the pecking!”, your body shuddering at the thought, Din pretends you agree with you; his face a mocking, serious expression.

“Oh, stop”, you scold, smiling back up at him as you watch his tanned chest work another little laugh out; his throat moving with it. “What about you, mister? What animal are you most afraid of?”

His answer is immediate. “Snakes.”

You roll your eyes again, his answer being an obvious choice and therefore not good enough for you. His fingertips trace your eyebrow, moving down the side of your face until they curl around your ear; stroking the skin at the top. Leaning into his touch, you challenge his answer. “Oh come on; everyone says snakes.”

Gently pinching the lobe of your ear between his fingers and thumb, he lightly tugs your head to the side and leans down to kiss your neck. His reply is muffled; his lips dragging against your skin. “That’s because it’s the right answer, girl.”

After a moment, you feel his ribs move with a renewed low laugh; his hot breath puffing into the crease between your shoulder and neck. Still running his tongue over your skin, he slides his hand down to palm your breast, taking the weight of it in his hand and stroking the buttery soft skin on the side of it.

Tipping your head back into the pillow to give him more room, he dips his tongue into the hollow of your throat before pulling back. “Maybe you like snakes, girl”, his deep voice teasing. “Since they can get into a henhouse and kill those scary old chickens.”

Your face confused at his first statement, it quickly morphs into an exasperated smile as he grins back before leaning back down to you and this time you feel the tickle of his mustache against the sensitive skin of your breast. Gliding his tongue over the peak, he draws it into his mouth and you watch his cheeks hollow with the motion. Pushing the hair back from his face, you admire the sight of his long eyelashes fanned against his cheeks; his eyes closed as he inhales your scent and watch his throat work as he swallows; the muscles flexing under the skin.

His body sliding against yours, you shift on the mattress to scoot over and make room for him between your legs. Kissing the underside of your breast before moving his attention to the other one, you run your hands over his broad shoulders, dipped in the middle as he is bent to his task. Moving his way back up you body, you feel him heavy against your entrance; the length of him hot against your thigh as he reaches down to spread your legs wider.

“What do you say, girl?”, his voice vibrating against your chest as he rests his weight on top of you. “You gonna let this snake into your henhouse?”

A laugh bursting from you, you feel his smile against your skin, amused at his own comment and the both of you chuckle together; your bodies lightly shaking the mattress.

Reaching down, you splay your fingers over his ass and widen your legs as you press him to you; his thick cock sliding into your slick center. Purposely tightening yourself around him, you feel a sharp intake of breath from his mouth against your throat as he pushes further into you; filling you with a stretch.

Pulling him to you for a kiss, you smile against his lips when you finally answer his question. “Gladly.”


	7. THE LESSON

“I’ve always wanted to ride with one leg on each side”, Gracie says, sitting on the rim of the tub, wringing a rag in her hands. Crinkling her nose, she continues, “None of that side saddle stuff.”

Grasping your hips under the water, Din kneads the flesh gathered there while lifting his chin up so you can soap his skin. “I think you’d be a natural”, he says while smiling at her. “You ride other things with one leg on each side just fine.” He winks.

She swats at him with the damp cloth, only to have him reach out and catch it just in time, using it to draw her closer. “Very funny, mister”, she murmurs, before placing a kiss to his lips.

Breaking away from her, he leans back into the tub while you cup your hand to gather the murky water, pouring it over the suds gathered on Din’s neck; once, twice, rubbing away the soap residue with your hands until it’s gone. Leaning forward with eyes focused on your task, you pinch his earlobes between the pad of your thumb and your finger, running the latter up and behind his ear to rub away any dirt. Gliding your hands down the sides of his neck, you gently grasp his shoulders and pull him towards you, sitting him up so Gracie can get to his back. His face so close to yours, you take the time to admire his warm, brown eyes as they look back at you, a small smile on his face, his body gently rocking with Gracie’s hard scrubbing.

Running the tip of your finger over the coarse hair of his eyebrow, he reaches for your hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly. Holding your gaze, his tongue peeks out to lave at the dip of flesh between the ridges of bone, softly biting one of them with a smirk.

“I haven’t ever ridden a horse with one leg on each side either”, you say thoughtfully, shifting your hips under the water and sliding them over his thighs, slightly squeezing them together. “It seems like it would be easier to stay on the horse, but I wouldn’t even know what to do.” You pause to watch Din’s mouth still on your hand, his lips molding around your knuckle, his tongue slipping in between your fingers while he listens to you talk. “How do you get up there? And how do you tell the horse where you want him to go?”

Pulling his mouth away from you with a hum, you watch his throat move with a swallow before he answers. “You just need to practice is all.” His eyes flick up to yours. “I could give you some tips, if you want?”

Nodding your head yes, he motions you to slide back on his legs even further so he can lie down under the water. Bracing yourself on the tops of his thighs, you watch him swish his head from side to side under the water; his hair slowly waving and fanning in the current. Popping back up with a splash, he wipes his broad hand over his face and reaches for a towel from Gracie as you climb out.

Leading you and Gracie over to the bed, he sits on the edge of the mattress while Gracie climbs up around him and situates herself at the top of the bed, her legs off to the side, gently patting her thighs. Lying down, he rests his head in her lap, his wet hair sliding against her skin when he settles his body on the bed and turns to nuzzle into her belly, pressing a kiss to the skin just over her mound.

Waiting patiently by the side of the bed for him to get comfortable, you stand there until he turns his attention to you and pats his own lap with a gentle tap.

“Go ahead and climb on up, girl.” His dark eyes watch hesitation flit across your face and he lifts an eyebrow at your expression. “Don’t be nervous now; your mount can always tell.”

Advancing towards the bed, you brace yourself on Din’s firm chest before lifting your leg up and over. Before you can get any further, he flicks his hand out and swats your leg sharply and his voice is low and dangerous when he scolds you. “You always mount on the horse’s left side, girl. Try again.”

Frozen in place, you put your leg slowly back down on the floor and walk towards the end of the bed while he watches. The mattress dips when you climb up onto the bottom of it, gingerly placing your hands and knees on the soft bedding to crawl over to his left side. He keeps his eyes on you as you move up the side of his body; Gracie twirling one of his dark curls around her finger, watching his face. Kneeling on his left side and bracing yourself again with your hands splayed across his chest, you bring your leg up and over until you are straddling him, the heat from his solid body between your thighs. You hover there, awaiting instruction.

Placing his large hands on your hips, he runs his rough palms over the soft skin there, staring at the juncture of your thighs. Slowly dragging his eyes up from the soft mound of hair gathered there, up the plane of your belly, up past your breasts and finally resting on your face, he continues his lesson.

“The first thing you gotta do is ease into the saddle.” Reaching down to grasp his cock, you can feel the back of his hand brush against your sensitive folds as he moves it from between his legs. Pulling it up towards himself, he drags the blunt tip of it slowly through your cunt, gliding it over your clit before resting it low on his belly. Feeling you try to shift your hips to chase the sensation, he keeps a firm grasp on you. “You gotta spread those legs wider for me, girl.”

Keeping his eyes on where your bodies meet, he watches as you shuffle your knees up higher on his sides, opening yourself up wider. Easing down even further onto his lap, you feel his thick length running along your slit and press yourself tight to it; hearing a low hiss come from between his teeth. Your folds totally encasing the underside of his cock, you rest your hands against the soft hair of his belly and wait; your fingers slowly brushing against the wiry strands. 

“Now, a good horseman – or woman”, he adds, when you pull a curl of hair between your fingers, “needs to keep her back straight.” Reaching up, he gently rests his finger on your ear. “You should be able to draw a straight line from your ear, to your shoulder, to your hip and heel, with the bulk of your weight resting in your seat.”

His finger follows the invisible line down the side of your body, stroking the soft skin of your earlobe, down the long line of your neck, tracing up and over your shoulder. Goosebumps rising on your skin in the wake of his touch, he keeps trailing it down, eventually spreading his hands wide over your hips. Reaching back, he digs his fingers into your backside and pulls you forward, your slick center sliding over his length.

Closing your eyes, you focus on the heat building between your hips, low in your belly, deep inside and you concentrate on his low, soothing voice.

A fresh wave of arousal coating the underside of his cock, you feel him lift his hips up off the mattress, gently rocking into you. He does it once, and then twice, getting you used to the feeling. With your hands still resting on the soft pouch of his belly, you let him move under you, focusing on where the two of you slide together, the velvet tip of his cock brushing against your clit.

“Can you feel it?”, he asks you, a low hum coming from his throat at the sensation of your heat. “Focus on the movement beneath you; let it rock between your legs without resisting it.”

You lean forward a little more and roll your hips in rhythm with his, opening your eyes to see the top of Gracie’s head as she is folded over him, gently opening his mouth with hers, licking into it. A groan vibrating out of his chest, he rocks into you harder as he kisses her, slightly shifting you forward and you move your hands to brace against his flushed chest as you press down and slide your hips back to meet his thrusts.

A whimper catches in your throat when you feel your cunt clench around nothing and his grip gets tighter on your hips before pulling away from Gracie to look at you. His eyes blown with lust, he watches your body – the slow slide of your hips, the clench of your stomach at every drag forward, your breasts pressed together between your outstretched arms.

“You’re doing so well, girl”, he says in a rough voice, as you grind down on him harder. “You might get saddle sore, but -”, a deep groan as you press your folds tighter to him while he digs his thumbs into the crease between your hips and thighs, “- but that’ll go away with practice.”

Sliding his hands inward, he splays his thick fingers outward along your thighs to spread you wider, skimming them up towards your center. Slipping the tip of his thumb into your folds, he seeks out your clit and presses down on it as his hips press up into you. Over your hoarse cry, he says, “In order to get your body used to it, you need to do it over and over again.”

Increasing your pace as he circles your swollen clit with his thumb, you watch him reach up behind his head, sliding his hand between Gracie’s legs to push them open. With one of her thighs still resting underneath his head, she moves her other leg to the side, crooked at the knee and her foot planted on the bed as he swiftly glides his hand towards her cunt, pressing his fingers into her; a mirror of what he is doing to you. Tipping her head back, her hand tugging his thick hair into a tight grip; her body curling in on itself with a groan.

The sight of his body laid out underneath you is overwhelming and you feel a shudder roll through you at the sight: the taut muscle of his tricep stretched over his head, the lean lines of muscle along his side rippling under his tan skin with every thrust of his hips upwards, the dip is his throat that moves with every soft grunt.

His hands working on both of you in tandem, his voice is deliciously strained when he speaks to you. “Tell me what you want with your legs, girl. Squeeze my sides if you want me to go faster.”

Immediately clamping your thighs tighter around him, he increases his pace; his soaked cock sliding smoothly against your center. With every slide of your hips back, it catches on you and you know he must feel you trying to pull him in, but he keeps pressing forward until it slides past your entrance and up before repeating the loop, over and over.

Not being able to take it anymore, you lean all the way forward and shove your fingers into his mouth, feeling him wrap his lips around them, his tongue gliding over the pads as he sucks on them. He coats them with saliva while you hook them in his mouth, using the grip as leverage to grind yourself harder and faster on him. His hand still trapped between your bodies, he keeps a steady press on your clit until you pull your wet fingers out of his mouth, instead cupping his chin with your palm and digging your fingers into his cheeks.

Frantically sliding over him, you hold him in place while you try to press down hard enough to make him slide into you, but he won’t let it happen. Crying out in frustration and arousal, you squeeze his face tighter and open your legs as wide as possible; your walls starting to flutter around the underside of his shaft. Withdrawing his hand from between you, he uses it to press hard on your lower back and you are so close to coming with the way his cock is dragging against you, now even tighter.

Leaning down until your chests are pressed together, you almost sob when he pulls his face from your tight grasp, a menacing, husky rasp in your ear when you start to feel the first wave overtake you. “You think you’re gonna be the one to break me, girl?”

A hoarse shout rips its way out of your throat at his words and you feel a second pulse; stronger than the first, reaching from deep inside your center all the way up your chest to the tips of your breasts, squished against his hot skin. Your soaked cunt clenches painfully around him, your thighs clamped tightly to his sides as you ride it out while he continues to glide through your folds; slowing down his pace as you become too sensitive.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, your hips sore from being spread wide for so long, he rests his hand on your ass and cups it in his hand, letting you stay for a moment before tapping your hip lightly; signaling you to climb off. Swinging your leg back over, you glance up at Gracie; her jaw slack with pleasure at Din’s hand still moving between her legs; her own hand added now.

Laying down next to them, you watch as he pulls his hand away from her and quickly flips over, rising onto his knees; his heavy cock glistening with your slick, the hair above it dark and wet. You roll slightly towards them on the bed as he reaches for her ankle, grabbing it and dragging her down the length of the mattress until she is stretched out on her back under him and roughly pulling her thighs apart, he immediately sinks down to his forearms and thrusts into her; both of them letting out a moan, his deep against her higher pitched one.

Wrapping one arm around the top of her head and searching out your hand with his other, he presses his face into the damp crook of her neck as he pounds into her, her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands gripping his ass to pull him deeper inside.

“Din, I’m gonna come; I’m gonna come”, she moans before pressing her head back into the pillow; her throat stretched in front of his mouth as he sucks on the skin there, drawing it into his mouth while she comes around him. Her body taut under his, frozen in place, he fucks into her once, twice and then comes with a loud, muffled cry into her skin; biting down on the flesh there as he holds himself inside of her.

Locked together for a moment, they both visibly relax their bodies slowly as they wind down – Din’s mouth moving slowly over Gracie’s throat, soothing his bite mark with his tongue; Gracie’s hands skating over the small of his back as his heavy weight rests between her legs, now relaxed against his sides.

His fingers still entwined with yours, he brings the joined hands to his mouth, softly kissing your knuckles before dropping them to settle in between the two of you. Laying on his back, he opens his arms wide and the two of you tuck tight into his sides; you resting your hand on the side of his neck, Gracie resting hers over his chest; both of you feeling the same rapid pulse of his heart.

Stroking the sweat slicked skin of his body, you shift up onto your elbow to kiss him – just a light thing against his heavy breaths. Skimming your mouth over his, you wait until he opens for you, his soft pants into your mouth as you kiss his top lip and then his bottom lip and then the two, together. Pulling back, you tilt his head towards Gracie, who repeats the same pattern.

Cupping his hands around the back of your heads, his fingers are buried in your hair when he tucks both of your faces into his neck. Resting his cheek against your forehead and pressing a kiss to it, he closes his eyes to sleep for awhile. 

–

It’s late; well past midnight and you are tucked into the warmth of Din’s body as he tells you about the Kid. (“You’d be so proud of how his reading is coming along, girl. We practice on the flyers at night”, he tells you, as you roll your eyes, laughing at the method.) Gracie, having decided that she needed more sleep than she was going to get with the two of you talking all night, grumpily pulled herself out of bed with a huff and giving Din a kiss, had gone back to her room.

“Have you never really ridden a horse, girl?”, he asks you, his fingers softly running through your hair.

“No, not like that; not with one leg on each side.” You smile into his chest before resting your chin on top of your hand, looking up at him. “I do have some practice at the motion though, as you well know.” He laughs, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Seeing him slip into thought, you realize he is probably now thinking about you with other men and you quickly change the subject.

“What about the kid? How are his skills coming along?”, your voice drawing him back to you. “Have you taught him all he needs to know about camping?”

His hand idly stroking between your shoulder blades, he tells you that he has; that the kid has picked up quickly on how to care for his horse, how to fish, how to pitch the tent at night. There is such affection in his voice, such pride that you can’t help but smile.

“I bought him his own tent to pitch, but it didn’t last very long – he always ends up crawling in with me in the middle of the night anyhow.” He tries to sound exasperated, but his eyes crinkle when he smiles at the thought.

“I don’t blame him, I would be scared to be in that tent all alone”, you softly reply.

He looks down at you and brushes a lock of hair back from your brow. “Oh, I don’t think you’d have to worry about that, girl. I would never let you sleep in that tent all alone.” He winks and shifts, turning on his side, while you roll onto your back. Propping his head up with his hand, he watches as you press a kiss to his arm. The both of you are silent for a moment; slowly succumbing to the time of night.

“Don’t let me forget”, you say, scooting closer to his body with a yawn while he tugs the blankets up around you. “I have a present for him – well, for both of you.”

Softly stroking your cheek with back of his hand, he leans down to kiss you there, gently nuzzling his nose across your cheekbone. “You’re too good to us, girl.”

Your eyes are closed when you reply. “Don’t I know it.”

–

Even later, you having fallen asleep, Din is curled into your back; his arms wrapped tightly around you, knees under yours, face pressed into your hair. He’s awake, you can tell by his breathing and the way he keeps touching you; hands constantly on the move, stroking the swell of your breasts, sliding down to palm them before trailing down your belly, curling his hand over your hip, tracing the bone there.

Turning onto your back with a stretch, he gives you space enough to move before settling tight into your side. Your voice is thick with sleep when you ask what he is still doing awake. He doesn’t reply with words, only with roaming hands and you lie there for a moment in dark, letting those touches slowly wake you. When he is like this; alone with you like this, in the dark like this, you wish you had the strength to stay awake all night, as to not miss one moment. It’s always too soon, the sun rising and him leaving again.

Blindly reaching for his face, you find it in the dark and pull it to yours, giving him a lingering, sleepy kiss. “What do you miss most about me when you’re away?” 

Thinking for a moment, he curls his fingers through the soft tuft of hair over your cunt and moves downward, tracing the seam of you lightly; up and down, up and down.

“I miss the soft sounds you make when I touch you here.” Dipping his fingers into you, he continues. “How warm you feel inside; always ready for me.” Withdrawing his fingers, he ghosts them over the inside of your thighs, up your leg onto your hip, resting his hand there. He smiles against your skin when he teases you. “The way your face looks when I whisper these things to you.” Sliding his hand up over your belly, he stills it on your chest. “I can tell you’re flushed, girl.” 

“You can’t see that”, you challenge, even though he is right. 

His palm smooths over your chest and up, cupping your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. “No, but I can feel it.” 

Shifting his hips on the bed, you feel him press his cock into your leg; stiff and hot against your skin and he whispers in your ear. “I know what you feel like in the dark, girl.” He grinds his length against your smooth skin, gripping your jaw a little tighter. “What you smell like.” His mouth hot against your shoulder, his lips resting against the skin there. “What you taste like.” 

Reaching down to palm himself, you feel the mattress dip as he strokes against your hip; a rough sigh escaping from him as he seeks out his own hand. 

“I dream about it; about you.” A soft grunt as he squeezes himself tighter. “In my tent at night.” 

You feel the movement of his hips pushing into his own hand, the blunt, heavy tip of his cock resting against your hip and an ache of arousal pools in your belly at his admissions, at the way he is touching himself, at the soft desperation in his voice. You remember the conversation about his tent earlier and picture him in it, though you can only imagine: the soft leather of the bedroll, his navy blue wool blanket cast to the side as slowly unbuttons his pants and slides his hand under the fabric, seeking out the bulge underneath. You picture a lantern in the tent, making his skin glow golden in the soft light, his beautiful face straining at the stroke of his own hand.

Opening your legs, you dip your fingers inside yourself, gathering slick from your center and drawing it up through your folds, using it to glide over your clit, rubbing yourself in time with his strokes. Arching up into your hand, he feels your hips lift off the mattress and pulls himself faster at the thought of you touching yourself. 

“I think about you so much, girl. How tight you are when my cock is inside you; how wet you get.” Hearing a soft whimper from you, your arm moving fast where is it pressed against his body, he knows you are listening to him. “I can’t stand the ache for you. I get so fucking hard thinking about you, I have to fuck my fist every night; imagining your body underneath me, on top of me, your cunt squeezing me tight when you come, I — “ 

His breath is ragged against your shoulder and he groans against the skin there when you moan loudly over his words, your hand moving fast against your clit. Pressing a finger deep inside yourself, he hears the obscene sounds your cunt makes as you move them in and out and he begs you, “Show me, girl. Show me what you do when you miss me.”

You whine in frustration, your hands not as good as his are and you add another finger when you hear his voice, deep and rich. “Do you ache for me, girl? Way down deep?” 

“Yes”, you cry out, trying to reach the spot only he seems to be able to reach. “I get so wet, Din; so wet. Can you hear me?” 

He groans in response, your words driving him to frantically stroke his thick cock and when he rests his forehead against your shoulder, you can feel a frown etched into his brow as he concentrates on you: the words you’re saying, the sounds coming from your cunt and he tells you to hurry up; he’s not gonna last long but he wants to hear you come. 

Your voice is desperate with need when you tell him your fingers aren’t thick enough, that you can’t reach where he can and leaving his own cock, impossibly hard and leaking against your hip, he knocks your hand away and quickly shoves two fingers in. Sliding all the way down to the knuckle with ease, he adds a third and you groan loudly with relief, your own slick hand reaching for his cock. At the curl of his fingers, his thumb pressing on your clit, you come; almost painful with how hard you clench around his thick digits and you feel the hot spurt of his seed shoot onto your belly, coating your skin. Working each other through your release, your hands move in tandem, not pulling away until it becomes too sensitive; the both of you panting and spent. 

After he’s wiped your skin delicately with the kerchief he keeps on your table, his limbs are heavy with sleep as he holds you to his chest; his voice soft and sleepy and achingly deep when he speaks. “When you asked me earlier what I missed most about you when I’m gone, I didn’t tell you the truth.” 

You hum in question, your eyelids sliding shut as you focus on his deep, comfortable breathing. 

“What I miss most is this; the way you feel so soft against me when I hold you.” His palm smoothing the skin on your back, fingers splayed wide to stroke gently across your skin. “And your laugh. And your sweet nature. I miss those too.”

You smile against his chest, tears prickling at your eyes when he finishes, his voice low; only just a murmur as he drifts to sleep. “And the way you make me feel. So good - always so good, girl. I miss that the most.”

–

Fully dressed and standing next to your bed, he holds your gift in his hands – a primary book for the kid, a small chalkboard and packet of chalk. Rubbing his thumb over the worn cover, he smiles down at you where you rest against the pillow, deeply asleep in the light of dawn and he leans to press a soft kiss to your forehead, taking care not to wake you before leaving your room, quietly closing the door behind him.


	8. THE ROPE

“Can you believe that man just kicked him over the side of the hill? Isn’t that terrible?”, you say to Gracie, running your fingers through Din’s hair; twirling the dark pieces of it around your finger.

“Poor baby”, Gracie coos, cupping his cheek and leaning forward to give him a soft kiss. “That sounds awful.”

“And here I thought you were the best in the business”, you tease, peeking up at him when he turns his gaze to you. “Besides some poor luck in choosing that spot to ambush someone, catching men unawares and rendering them useless doesn’t seem like it’s too hard; Gracie and I do that all day long.”

As you say this, you flick your gaze over to Gracie, who catches your drift and runs her hand delicately up the inside of Din’s thigh, squeezing his soft cock on the word “unawares”. Hissing and thrusting up into her hand, he delicately removes it while you laugh, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it before setting it back down on his chest.

“Unfortunately, I don’t rely on the same tricks as you ladies do”, he answers, tracing his fingers over the skin at your shoulder. “It’s a lot harder to pin a fighting man down as opposed to a man who is welcoming your touch.”

“So once you have him down, then what do you do?”, you ask, your face tilting up to see him. “I know you have to tie him up, but it seems to me a little rope wouldn’t be enough to keep anyone bound up for very long.”

“Depends on how you tie the rope”, he replies, a familiar glint of arousal shining in his eyes as he circles Gracie’s wrist with his fingers, tightening his hold slowly. “You can make anyone at your mercy with just a little rope.”

Looking at his lap, you see his cock twitch, slowly hardening at the thought of showing you what he means. Indulging him, you lean into his ear, “Can you show us?”

Sliding out from between the two of you, you keep your eyes on his back; the firm muscles of it flexing under his tan skin as he grabs the bundle of his pants on the floor and fishes out a length of frayed rope. Making his way back to the bed, he motions for the two of you to stand up; you, with your hands behind your back and Gracie behind you.

Pressing the length of rope into Gracie’s hand, she smirks as she takes it from him. “Is this always done in the nude? Or is that just your particular style?”

Hushing her with a smile on his face, he settles onto the edge of the bed and instructs her to tie your wrists together. Even with his instructions, the attempt is terrible and as the rope slides right off, the both of you laughing.

“Come on, pay attention now. You don’t want her to turn and pin you to the ground, do you?”, he implores, leaning forward to watch Gracie’s hands as she attempts a second knot.

“Oh, well I don’t think that would be so bad”, she smiles and as she finishes tying the rope into place, you can feel that this attempt is better, but still loose. You wiggle your wrists together and feel it start to slide apart, laughing again at the poor attempt.

“I have never in my life seen such happy bounties”, he sighs. “Gracie, you gotta tie her wrists tighter than that or else she’ll get away.”

Arching your back and wiggling your hips, you slide the rope against your backside, making it loosen around your wrists. Looking back at him, you see his eyes focused on your ass, leaning forward to get a better look; his now stiff cock nestled between his thighs. Sliding your wrists out of the rope, you grab Gracie’s hand and pull her back to the bed, climbing up slowly after her. He follows you with his gaze as you put one leg up on the bed, slowly bringing the other one up to crawl across the mattress; giving him a nice, long look at your bare ass, your damp folds peeking out below it.

Kneeling behind her, you take her hands into your own and pull them to the small of her back, your small hand circling her wrists. Shuffling close to her, your breasts are pressed into her back and you feel her knuckles against your belly as you reach around and wrap your hand around her throat lightly, tipping her head back onto your shoulder. Both of you looking at him, you can see the lust on his face.

“See, baby?”, you purr, “I already have Gracie right where I want her and I didn’t even need that rope.” Still for a moment under your grip, a smile spreads on Gracie’s face and you are caught off guard when she opens her fingers against your skin and wiggles them, tickling your stomach. Sucking in, you leap back with a shriek of laughter, pulling her down on the bed with you as a giggle bubbles up from her. 

Bending down to get the rope off the floor, he stands by the bed and looks at the two of you, his cock heavy between his thighs. “Well now”, he says lowly. “You two are my bounties, but I can’t have you all squirrelly in the saddle.” 

Winding the length of the rope around the width of his palm and stretching the remainder taut between his hands, you can hear it creaking with tension as he approaches the bed. 

“I think I might have to teach you both a lesson.”


	9. THE ROPE: PART II

Having spent five weeks in the saddle, two interminable hours at the sheriff’s wrapping up paperwork and another hour downstairs at the bar listening to the local gossip, Din is impatient tonight to get his bath done and over. Greeting you with a rough, consuming kiss when he entered the room, he all but ripped his clothing off before sliding into the tub, promptly letting you both know how desperate he was for each of you.

“All I could think about while that man was talking was how fucking wet you get when I fuck you”, he says, his gravely voice putting you in a trance, with his hand resting on your collarbone; his thumb pressing into the hollow of your throat. Feeling your pulse quicken, he turns his attention to Gracie. 

“And you”, sliding his hand over her thigh and up around to her backside, pulling her sharply towards him. “How good you take me in that mouth of yours.” Reaching up to gently pull her bottom lip down with his thumb, she opens her lips and sucks it into her mouth; a low groan leaving his throat while he tightens his grip on you.

Rushing through the bath, he is only half paying attention when Gracie brags to him about how good she has gotten with her knot tying skills, having begged you for weeks to keep practicing with her. Humming out a response, his eyes remain fixed on you; sitting on the edge of the bed, skimming your fingers along the inside of your thighs while you wait for Gracie to finish drying him off.

“Can I please show you, baby?”, she sweetly begs him, standing up off the floor. Taking his hands in hers, she places them on her hips and presses herself close to him, her knee gently pressing between his legs so she can rub the soft skin of her thigh against his already stiff cock.

Agreeing on the hope that it will help speed the night up and a little distracted by what she is doing with her thigh, he finds himself planted in a chair that faces the bed; his hands behind his back while Gracie clumsily ties the rope around his wrists. 

Still sitting on the edge of the bed, you scoot forward to push his legs open wider and you brace yourself on him; your thumbs digging into the firm muscle of his thighs. You glide your hands up until the vee between your thumb and pointer finger aligns with the creases of his groin, softly stroking the delicate skin of his balls with the pads of your thumbs. Watching a drop of precome drip from his cock, you quickly lean forward and catch it with your tongue as he lifts his hips with a twitch.

“There!”, Gracie exclaims from behind the chair. “I think I got it, baby – try to get out.”

Immediately pulling his hands free, he moves to stand when you push him firmly back into the chair and looking him in the eyes, you tell Gracie to try again. “I know you can do better than that, Gracie. Try again, baby.” 

Standing between his legs with your hands on his shoulders, you lean forward to press a kiss to Din’s lips, his mouth chasing yours when you pull away too soon.

It isn’t long before Gracie pops back up, a triumphant look on her face and asks him to try to get out again. Your face so close to his, you watch as he tugs on the bindings, expecting to be able to pull from them and his brow creases into a deep frown when he pulls a second time; his shoulders wiggling with effort. His arms stuck behind him, he looks at you in stern disbelief and then over at Gracie.

“I’m impressed”, he says reluctantly, the muscles in his arms flexing with effort as he attempts to worm his way free. “Now let me out.”

You continue to watch him closely, your hands still resting on his shoulders and you make no attempt to help him; neither does Gracie.

His dark eyes boring into yours, his expression darkens. “I just wanna fuck you, girl; stop playing games.”

Sliding your hand over the taut muscle of his shoulder, you splay your fingers up through the back of his hair, tugging on it sharply to tip his face up to yours. He is still, save for the heaving of his chest, as he watches you and you lean down to hungrily kiss him; licking deep into his mouth as he groans with relief. 

Breaking the kiss too soon, you hear a frustrated huff from him when you leave him tied to the chair, crawling up onto the bed and asking Gracie to join you. Sitting on the mattress, you position Gracie’s back between your spread thighs and she leans back into you, resting her hands on your knees. Reaching around her body to slide your hands between her thighs, you pull them open until she is spread out right in front of him and you rest your chin on her shoulder, your mouth right next to her ear. 

“Gracie, why don’t you be a good girl and show him how wet you get practicing your rope tying.”

His cock jerking at the words coming out of your mouth, he flicks his eyes up from her spread center to give her a warning look. “Gracie; don’t touch that fucking cunt.”

Ignoring his command, you keep your focus on Gracie, gently stroking the smooth, delicate skin on the inside of her thigh. “Don’t listen to him, sweet girl”, you murmur, looking over her shoulder down the length of her body as her legs fall apart wider. “If he won’t let you touch it, I’ll do it for you.”

Taking your time, you listen to Din’s chair creak as he struggles against his bindings as you continue your path down towards Gracie’s center, her body squirming with anticipation. Telling the truth earlier about how much she liked using the rope, you can see her chest rise and fall with a pant as you gently cup your hand over her cunt; feeling the damp heat of her under your palm. Holding it there, you look up at Din and his pupils are blown wide with lust; his weeping cock heavy between his thighs as he watches your hand and waits.

Keeping your eyes on him, you gently spread Gracie’s cunt open, running two fingers along the outside and you watch a groan work its way out his flexed neck as he watches; his throat bobbing with the effort. Her hands grip your thighs as you push two fingers inside of her tight heat, sliding right in with how soaked she is. Pulling them out, you push them back in again with an audible sound as she tips her head back against your shoulder and when you draw them out a second time, you continue upwards to stroke her clit; pinching it between the pads of your fingers before rubbing it softly. You see another thick drip of precome leak out of his cock, sliding down the tip of him before trickling down his shaft.

You continue working your hand between Gracie’s legs, drawing out the process as long as possible. Each time you feel her body arch under your arm, you use your other hand to press her belly down and force her to stay still while your fingers push into her; two at first, then three. 

Pulling them out, you use the pads of your fingers to rub tight circles over her clit and increasing your pace of the circuit, you turn your attention to Din, who is watching your hand with rapt attention; a desperate look on his face as his lap is soaked with his own leaking, the hair above his cock curled and saturated.

Letting you know she is going to come, it’s a delicate moan when she does and you hold Gracie tight through her release; her nails digging into your legs. A hot rush of arousal coats your hand as you work her through it, not pulling away until her hips pull back from your touch and looking up at Din with hooded eyes, you bring your hand up to your mouth; the slick trailing down your palm over your wrist.

“Girl; don’t”, he pleads, watching you flex your fingers to show him how wet they are before you put them into your mouth. Sucking on the digits and poking your tongue out to gather the pools of it between your fingers, you watch him clamp his eyes shut for a second before opening them; now pitch black and serious.

“You’re gonna wish you never did that, girl.”

Knowing you shouldn’t test his patience too much longer, you gently push Gracie up off of you, telling her to get down on the floor between his legs. Thinking about this very image the entire time he was in the sheriff’s office earlier today, the second Gracie puts her mouth on him, his hips flex sharply upward, filling her mouth completely as he cries out.

“Fuck – yes, sweet girl.” His hands still tight behind his back, the strain on his arms is even more as he tries to lean forward in the chair, an involuntary whimper crawls out of his open mouth as he pushes himself deep past her lips; feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat.

Having teased him for so long, he only gets a couple strokes in before you see his stomach clench tight and his neck strain with effort, his shoulders flexing as he tries desperately to pull his wrists apart as he starts to come. Gracie’s lips already almost down to the base of him, he snaps up into her mouth with a sharp thrust as the first spurt of come hits the back of her throat and she gags, not ready for it and pulls off of him with a wet pop as you watch the rest of his seed spill onto her chest.

Panting with the intensity of his release, he relaxes into the chair and you listen to his ragged breathing as he sits with his eyes closed, trying to settle his body down. Not giving him the time he needs, you quickly kneel down on the floor and tip Gracie’s shoulders to face you. Cooing at him softly to open his eyes, you make sure you have his attention as you lean down and collect his seed on your tongue; slow licks over her skin to gather it before swallowing it down. His eyes wide in hazed disbelief, he watches as you collect more of it on your tongue and making sure he can see the milky puddle in your mouth, you pull Gracie in for a deep kiss on her plush mouth as he shuts his eyes tight with a pleading whimper.

His thick length already hardening again, you revel at the power you wield over him right now; still bound tight and unable to get out of the chair, but you feel a nervous flutter in your belly when you think about how you have to let him out soon. He knows it too, can see it on your face and he doesn’t pull against his restraints this time when he orders, “Undo this fucking rope. Now.”

Slowly standing, you approach him warily, circling around to the back of the chair to undo the knot. Silently impressed with how secure the knot is, your hands shake slightly while pulling it apart and as soon as his wrists slip free, he is up and out of the chair. 

Grabbing you roughly by the hips, he pushes you face down into the soft bedding and climbing up on top of you, his heavy weight pressing you into the bed, he pulls your hips up with a jerk and shoves his cock into you from behind with a grunt. Reaching up, he grips your hair in a tight fist and sharply pulls it back, your scalp tingling with the tug. 

His deep, harsh strokes pushing into you, you fist the cool sheets as he continues the punishing pace; every thrust matched with a sharp tug on your hair. When you beg, “deeper” with a hoarse cry, his loud moan fills the room and he shifts his knees on the bed to get closer to you; the rough curls of his pubic hair sliding against your ass.

“Is this deep enough for you, girl?”, he taunts, grinding his weight into you and hitting a spot so deep that you cry out with a whimper; a sharp pinch of discomfort before his strokes quickly turn it into a deep, aching, hot pleasure flooding through your core. Feeling the response your body gives to him, he focuses on stroking that deep spot, hitting over and over again and you yell out his name when you come, your cunt gripping him so tightly that he can’t move. 

The gush of slick that floods out around his cock coupled with how tight you are triggers his own peak and leaning forward to grip the bedframe, he curls over your back as he spills deep inside of you with a yell. Your cunt milking every last drop with each pulse, his hand flexing restlessly in its grip on your hips, his thick fingers digging into the flesh there.

When you sag into the mattress with exhaustion, you let out a soft whine as he slides out of you and he admires how spent your cunt looks; soaked and leaking with his cum. Dipping his fingers inside, your hips jerk away with another whimper and he soothes you with a shush, stroking the seam of you with a delicate touch.

His body glistening with sweat, his hairline damp with it, the long, lean muscles of his body are on display as he stretches his arm out to beckon Gracie to join you on the bed. Shifting his position on the bed to give you room, you roll onto your back just in time to see him slide his fingers deep into her mouth; soaked with your arousal.

Eyes still wild with lust, he slowly pulls his fingers out and rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip, he tells her to kiss you. When she leans forward to press her mouth to yours, he stills her.

“Not there”, he says softly, his eyes matching the dark expression on his face. Gently pulling your legs open, he gestures to your weeping cunt. “There.”


	10. THE NIGHT TRIP

A week ago, some young kid rode into town and stayed at the saloon, playing cards and bragging about how he is a wanted man, but no bounty hunter has been able to catch him yet. The other guys sitting around the table calling his bluff, he loudly spoke his insistence over their mutters of disbelief, explaining how he was taught tracking skills by his pa when he was young; now using those skills to stay one step ahead of the bounty hunters.

“Hell; sometimes I set decoy tracks, so they think got me, but then I ambush them and kill em!” Laughing, he pulls his pistol out of its holster and pretends to shoot the guy next to him.

Standing by the bar and listening, you feel like you’re going to be sick. Giving them a glance, Gracie looks at you and gently takes your hand in hers. “Don’t listen to him, baby. You know he’s just running his mouth.”

You give her a weak smile in a feeble attempt to show her that you know she is right, but you can’t stop thinking about the possibility that it might actually be true. Men were your business; you knew some of them could be cruel, but you never thought about Din - or the kid; oh god, the kid - being purposely led into a trap.

The story lingers with you and it’s still present in your mind when he comes into town a week later.

The madam, greeting Din at the door, makes a quiet comment about how you’ve been low. “It’s really turning people away, Din”, she says, a dismayed look on her face. “Bad for business, you know.”

Distracted with concern over you, he gives her a sidelong glare – fuck her business – but he tells her that he’ll go up to see what the matter is. Handing the kid off to Gracie, he makes his way upstairs.

\--

In the bath together, he can tell that you are really trying hard to put on a happy, brave face, but it’s not really working. You seem distracted, your smile faltering when he tries to joke and you won’t hold his gaze, instead intensely focusing on washing him.

Giving up small talk, he stops your movements when he strokes his hand over your cheeks, his knuckles first and then the pads of his fingers. Tipping his head in an attempt to catch your eye, he cups your face and runs his thumb lightly over your bottom lip as it quivers under his touch.

“Hey now”, he murmurs, peering into your watery eyes, “What’s wrong with my girl?”

You wait a moment, composing yourself with a swallow before it all comes rushing out: what the kid said, how worried you have been, how worried you still are. Thinking that one day he could leave and never come back, you almost say it out loud but stop yourself; you don’t want to vocalize that worry, don’t want to send it out into the universe to take root.

Disquieted at your tears, he listens to your story with a frown while keeping his hands on your shoulders. When you get to the part about the kid hunting people like him, he snorts and rolls his eyes. “That fool? He got caught two days ago; dumber than a box of rocks.” His warm brown eyes stare into yours as he softens his tone. “He was lying, girl. That’s all.”

Sniffling and nodding back at him to show him you understand, you still can’t shake the heavy weight of worry from your chest and look away, scanning the water for the rag to distract yourself. He stares at you for a long moment, wiping away the tear that slides down your cheek and he cups your neck to pull you close, giving you a slow, gentle kiss.

It starts lightly, his lips slowly opening your mouth and you melt into it, pouring your anxieties into him with every exhale. He gladly takes them from you, his broad hands sliding down over your shoulders as he deeply inhales; his hands skating down along your sides. He gently ends the kiss and delicately pulls you down to his warm chest, letting you lay there on him; his hands smoothing the soft hairs at the base of your neck before slowing sliding them down over your back, the relaxing motion soothing you.

Dipping a cup into the steaming water, he pours it over your skin over and over, rubbing the tense muscles with his other hand. Eventually, he speaks. “Listen. Either I get them, or they get me; that’s just how it is.”

He feels a hitch in your breath and he cradles your head to his chest as you close your eyes, listening to the steady beating of his heart; the bass rumble of his voice as he keeps talking. “But they’re not gonna get me. I’ll always find a way back to my girl.”

You lift your head up and take his face in your hands, looking at him for a long time while you run your thumb down the slope of his nose, over his cheekbone, across his lips. He stays still under your exploration, his eyes fluttering shut when you trace his eyelids with your fingertip and it’s like you are trying to reassure yourself that he is really here, warm and solid under your touch and he knows, letting you take the time you need. You smooth away the concerned crease of frown with your thumb and he feels you lean in to kiss him, keeping his eyes closed as you press your lips to his.

He responds gently at first, taking his cues from you, but when your mouth becomes more insistent against his, his hands slide under the water, kneading your thighs and sliding between your legs. Dipping his fingers into you, you shift your hips to meet them and moan into his mouth; your fingers digging into his sturdy shoulders as you lift yourself up so he can line up his cock. Sinking down on him, you wrap your arms around his neck and try to press as close to him as possible as you ride him; all the worry from the past week turning into desperation as your hips roll faster and faster. Your movements getting sloppy with need, he grips your hips and steadies you, slowing you down to drag them forward and back, forward and back as his deep voice reassures you. “I’m right here, girl. I’m right here.”

Putting your head into the crook of his neck, you are so close when you let his hands guide you over him; his hips coming up to meet yours. Holding your head to his chest just like before, he stops moving you and starts to fuck up into you, crushing your body to his when you both find release.

In bed, he takes his time with you. Knowing that you spent all week in an agitated state, he seeks to relieve you of that stress; tries to show you with his hands and his mouth that he isn’t going anywhere. Kneeling on the floor, he brings your hips to the edge of the mattress and spreads you for him, placing soft kisses on your thighs, slowly lapping into you, his hands stroking the petal soft skin of your belly as he makes you come.

Afterwards, he holds you: his back to the door, you are tucked between the warm, solid wall of his body and the bed, the heavy weight of him half draped over you. His head next to yours on the pillow, he wraps his arms around you tight and covers your legs with one of his own, pressing you tight to him and you bury your face in the space between his shoulder and neck when you fall asleep, his hand curled over the back of your head. 

__

Sleeping in late together, the most rest you’ve gotten in weeks, Din decides to stay another night with you, switching his plans to ride out the following morning. 

You spend the afternoon together with the kid, setting up a table in the corner of the saloon with his primer and slate, showing him how to copy the words from the book. He takes the task seriously, his face scrunched in effort and you are so impressed with the results; you can tell they have been practicing. 

It’s especially apparent when the kid carefully spells “A-r-m-e-d R-o-b-b-e-r-y” in an attempt to impress you. Din watches with a tilt of his head and winks at your surprised face when you look up. “I told you you’d be proud of him, girl.”

After lunch, he asks Gracie to take him for awhile so the two of you can take a nap; a luxury he is almost never afforded.

The warm, late afternoon sun filtering in through your thin curtains, you wake up to him spooning you. He’s been awake for a while, dragging his lips over the smooth skin of your shoulders and dipping into your slick from behind with his fingers, soft enough to not disturb you. You press yourself back onto his hand as you slowly wake up, stretching into the warmth of his body, seeking his fingers out with your hips. Pushing into you with his cock, his arm is heavy and comforting over your side, his hand steady on your stomach as he pulls you back into him; his forehead resting in the dip between your shoulders.

You are greedy for more, since he has been so gentle this whole time and he can sense it, with the force of your thrusts back. Grabbing your elbow and pulling it back to hold you into place, he fucks into you, his pace starting slow and filling, then faster and harder. Tucking his chin over your shoulder, he puts his mouth next to your ear and you can feel the hot gust of his breath on your cheek when he speaks. “I’m gonna come inside you so deep, you’ll never be rid of me, girl.” Tightening his grip on your arm; his thrusts drive you up the pillow. “I’m gonna fuck it into you so deep it’ll always be there.”

You clench around him when he says that, coming loudly with a muffled, hoarse cry, your face pressed into your pillow. Working you through it, he lets your elbow go, but rolls you onto your stomach and pushes your leg up on the mattress to get deeper and closer, putting his weight on your back and fucks into you until he spills deep inside, just like he said. The pressure and stretch still so full even after he begins to soften, he rubs your shoulders and arms, kissing your back down, down and when he pulls out of you, you lay there as he softly tucks the milky liquid back inside your soaked cunt; watching it as it leaks out around his fingers.

Crawling up your body and pulling you to him, he sags into the mattress as you lay across his chest, his arms winding around you. “You feel better now, girl?”, he asks, catching his breath.

You nod against his smooth skin and tip your head up, seeking his lips for a kiss. Pinching your chin, he holds you in place as he pulls back from your mouth. “You don’t need to worry about me, okay?” His gaze holds tight to yours, making sure you understand. “I’ll always be back.”

Pulling your head back down to his chest, he strokes your hair back and away from your face, curling it around his fingers as he murmurs, “Only for you. Just for my girl.”

\--

It’s the middle of the night when Din shakes you awake, his grip firm on your shoulder; moving his hand to gently caress your cheek. 

“Hey girl,” he whispers in the darkness. “Wake up. I wanna show you something.”

Closing your eyes briefly before opening them a little wider to blink away sleep, you hear him walk lightly over to the corner of the room and back again. Leaning down next to your face, he presses a soft bundle of fabric into your hand. 

“Here are your clothes girl”, he whispers, his hand skimming over your shoulder, stroking down between your shoulder blades to rub you. “Come on; I’ll help you get up.”

Outside, you take a deep inhale of night air, wrapping your shawl around you tighter while Din brings his horse around. Helping you up, he climbs up after you; your side pressed to his front as you sit side saddle. 

Bumping your shoulder lightly into his chest, you smile up at him. “Hey, don’t you think I should be sitting like you now?” You raise your eyebrows as you place your hand on his thigh and squeeze. “One leg on each side?”

Huffing out a quiet laugh, he gives you a lopsided smirk. “Well, usually people who sit that way have drawers on. I thought it best to keep your legs closed.” Leaning in closer to your ear, his voice low, “For now.”

Reaching under his jacket and grasping the soft material of his shirt, you lean against his chest as the horse rocks under you, leading you out of town. Resting your head just under his chin, you watch as the buildings pass by; silent and looming in the darkness. An occasional candle flickering in a window, most are dark as the horse trots past; the path illuminated by the moon. 

It was just a couple of weeks before that you and Gracie had laid in bed with Din, asking him about his travels. Painting a bleak picture of cold nights, cold food and cold beds, you pressed him for more details. Winding his hair through your fingers, you asked him if there was anything good about it, since it sounded like such an adventure to you.   
“I guess maybe the stars, if I had to name something” His eyes fixed on the ceiling in thought, as Gracie traced the dip of his collarbone with her finger. “A lot of stuff gets old, but they never do.”  
Your body lulled by the soft, clipped sound of the horses hooves, the rhythmic rise and fall of Din’s chest, the soothing weight of his arms resting around you, you feel your eyes slide shut, eventually opening when you feel the horse slow to a stop; the low, quiet sound of Din shushing it as he pulls on the reins.

Wrapping his arm around your back, he tightens his hold on you while resting his lips against your forehead. “You awake, girl?”, he murmurs.

Feeling you nod, he braces himself on the saddle as he swings his leg over, climbing down and reaching up to help you. 

Standing in the clearing while he ties up the horse, you are just able to make out the edge of town in the distance and watch as the nearby trees wave in the gentle breeze, their leaves rustling softly. 

He comes back to you with a bundle in his arms; a worn looking bedroll that he rolls out onto the grass. Dropping down to the ground, he lays on his side and pulls you down with him, tucking you tight into his warm body. 

Your head resting on his chest and your arm slung low over his belly, he takes your hand in his, pressing his fingers between yours. 

“Is this how you sleep when you’re away?”, you ask softly, recalling your conversation from weeks past. 

“On this very bed, though it’s not usually with company”, he answers, his fingers gently moving with yours.

He keeps moving them as he tells you about the freezing nights and the hot, humid ones; the time he found a snake in with him (slithering in to warm itself against his leg). He describes the pitch black on moonless nights, the lightning storms he sees sometimes, the sky bursting into bright streaks and flashes of muted light. 

His voice is full of pride as he tells you about the kid, how good he is as making a fire, how he is really coming along in his fishing skills and he laughs when he tells you about the time he had to fish him out of the lake after he fell in, the rod pulling him off the bank. Finally, he shows you the stars and the constellations, using your joined hands to point at them in the sky.

Looking up into the vast expanse, you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so beautiful: the twinkling and winking lights far away, some brighter than others; the whole thing bigger than you could have imagined. You can see the truth in his earlier statement; you can’t imagine ever tiring of this view.

Shifting onto his side, he leans over you as he traces his fingertip down the bridge of your nose, over your lips and running it under your chin, tipping your face up for a kiss. Starting slow, his lips gently molding to yours, he licks against your lips in a silent request to open them and you do, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. Coaxing your mouth open with his and slowly rolling you onto your back, his upper body presses you into the hard ground as he slants his mouth over yours to deepen the kiss. Reaching up to bury your fingers in his soft hair, running your hands through the thick strands, you pull him closer to you with an inhale. 

Pulling back with a sigh and a swallow, he looks down at you, his face soft with amusement while you trace his throat with your fingers, dipping them under his collar. 

“You know”, his face dropping into mock seriousness, “nights sure can be cold out here sometimes. Maybe you could share some of that body heat with me.” His eyebrows raise in question, while his hand gently tugs at the thick fabric of your skirt, pulling it high enough to creep his hand around your bare leg, just above your knee. “I think most of its trapped under your skirt”, a mischievous tug of a smile playing on his lips.

A thoughtful hum escaping you, you mirror his expression, slowly slipping into your own indulgent smile as you reach down to drag your skirt up further. Sliding your hand over his, you pull his hand up higher on your thigh, skimming it over your soft flesh. Watching him watch your joined hands, you pull it higher still, slightly parting your legs as you guide his hand to your damp folds, pressing your fingers over his, arching into his palm. 

Softly stroking and parting you, he slips his fingers inside of you, using his other hand to delicately lift your skirt high over your hip to make sure he can see you spread for him. Leaning back over you, he moves his fingers in and out slowly, stroking you deep inside, pausing now and then to draw your slick out and spread it around your folds before filling you with his fingers again. He answers your keening whine with a low shushing sound and he kisses you again, swallowing your moan as he pushes in down to the knuckle. 

Gradually drawing his hand back, he shuffles his body between your thighs and you reach down to help him with his belt; the quiet clinking of the metal triggering a leaking rush of arousal from your center.

Resting his weight on his forearm, his breath fans over your face while he reaches down to guide himself into you and you feel the pressure of his heavy length at your entrance for a split second before he pushes in; slowly filling you until his hips are touching yours. 

Dropping his head down to your neck, he kisses your throat and he feels the ghost of moan under your skin as he pulls almost all the way out before sliding back in again, putting his whole weight behind the firm stroke. 

Opening your legs wider around his hips, you meet his thrusts; you flexing up with his every push down. You close your eyes and focus on the deep hum of contentment he lets out, the solid weight of his body pressing your shoulders into the ground, the slowly building heat low in your belly; the tightness in your chest when you think about all of those things together.

Another deep stroke in and he nuzzles his nose against your cheek before pressing a kiss to it, his mustache a tickle against your skin.

“What do you see, girl?”, his low voice vibrating against your chest, referring to the sky above.

He can feel the smile on your face against his lips, your arms tightening around his body when you answer.

“Only you.”


	11. INTERLUDE: US MARSHAL MARCUS PIKE

“Okay, baby - try to get out.”

A shy smile peeking at the corner of her mouth, Gracie watches Marcus struggle against her bindings and with every second that goes by that he can’t get out, she gets more and more pleased. 

Looking up at her in astonishment, Marcus’s smile is filled with pride when he pulls one last time and then stills, bound tight to the chair. 

“I am so impressed, Gracie. I can’t move an inch!” Delighting in her jubilant expression, Marcus leans forward as far as he can to tip his face towards her and Gracie rewards him with a kiss; straddling his nude body and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Deepening the kiss, Gracie toys with hair at the nape of his neck, curling the longer strands around her fingers and slides her hips forward on his lap; his thick cock pressing into her backside. 

He hums in content when she licks deeper into his mouth, swirling her tongue lightly with his before she pulls away, pressing a quick last kiss to his bottom lip. The rope creaks as he twists his hands again and she leans over his shoulder to check her bindings while he kisses every inch of skin he can get his mouth on: delicate warm things that touch her shoulder, collarbone, chest. 

Sitting back on his lap, she preens in his praise. 

“This is wonderful, darling. You’ve been practicing; I can tell.”

Her face shifting into a slight pout, Gracie slides her nails through the dapples of grey at his temple when she tells him she has been. “I practiced on Din the other night, but he definitely wasn’t as happy as you are.”

Her eyes slightly glaze over and a small shiver rolls through her body as she remembers the night and Marcus feels a small trickle of arousal leak from her cunt onto his lap, where it’s pressed tightly against him. 

“No, I can’t imagine he would have patience for that”, he says, watching her face. His hips shift in the chair and Gracie stands on the tips of her toes to reach under her, gently pulling his cock from between his thighs to line it up with her entrance; a sharp inhale from him when she sinks down on it. 

“I think the only person he has a soft spot for is your friend –”, a deep groan interrupting his sentence when her fingers slide through the hair above his cock to where they are joined, leaning back on her hand resting on his knee to circle her clit in time with the slow roll of her hips. 

Her hips roll a circuit, then another, as she lets out a soft moan. His hands still bound behind the chair, he wishes he could pull her closer; he is dying to touch those perfect breasts, to put his mouth on them the way he knows she likes. 

Her voice catching at the same time her cunt clenches around him, she asks sweetly, “And what about me, baby? Do you have a soft spot for me?”

His head tipping back, she watches his throat work with a swallow and smiles at rendering him momentarily speechless. 

“Oh I have something for you alright, but I don’t think anyone would say it’s “soft”, he grits out, a huff of a smile at his own joke before his jaw goes slack and his eyes slide shut with a firm roll of Gracie’s hips. 

Opening them when he feels her hands gliding over his chest, he sees her lust filled gaze fix on his broad shoulders, flexing under the effort of being bound and she grinds harder on his lap, a small whimper escaping her lips. Leaning in, she kisses him roughly, her tongue invading his mouth and he pushes back, meeting her urgency. 

Pulling away, she pants into his mouth as she works her hips faster, the chair creaking under them and Marcus’s voice is desperate and soft when he asks, “Please undo the ropes, darling. I want to feel you.”


	12. THE CAMPING TRIP

More than a little jealous about your nighttime excursion, Gracie asks Din one night if he would take her out of the inn on an adventure.

“I’ve always wanted to go camping”, she says brightly, helping him out of his jacket. You watch them both from the bath, your chin resting on your folded hands over the side and you smile at the expression on her face as she daydreams about what she thinks it must be like.

“I know you say it isn’t all fun, but Marcus told me – “

“Marcus said, huh?”, Din asks lowly, his expression darkening. “What would a marshal know about camping out at night?”

“Oh, he knows lots of things”, Gracie chatters on while working his belt open, oblivious to the way Din’s jaw is working, clenching his teeth while listening. “He visited me the other day and told me all about it.” She smiles up at him in her excitement and his face softens as he strokes her cheek gently.

“Well maybe you want him to take you camping.” Bringing her face closer to his, he kisses her softly on the lips once, then twice before leaning in to lick at her earlobe; drawing it into his mouth while he inhales her cool scent. His mouth hot against her neck, his hands grip the tops of her arms and squeeze gently when he says, “We’ll see how much you talk about Marcus tonight when I’m fucking you.”

Dragging his lips over the line of her neck, she lets her head fall to the side to give him more access and softly replies, “Well, you can have two ladies – why can’t I have two men?”

He immediately draws back, a smirk on his face as his grip tightens.

“Can you believe this, girl?”, he says to you, looking over and admiring the sight of you in the tub. His eyes watch intently as you cup water in your hand and pour it gently over your shoulder; following the line of it as it runs down over your chest.

You smile at him, shaking your head. “No; I think just the one man is all I can handle.”

Climbing into the bathtub, he pulls you on top of his lap and squeezes your hips under the water. “It better be.”

__

Having made arrangements with the madam, the three of you set out the next afternoon. You silently wonder how much he paid for this, you have never heard of anyone being able to leave with a girl; let alone two of them, for the whole night. 

Borrowing a horse from the inn, Gracie begs to ride it all by herself and you watch as he helps her climb up. Her face beaming in excitement, she immediately leans forward and presses her face into the horse’s mane, gliding her fingers through the hair before taking the reins in her hands and sitting up straight, marveling at how high she is.

Helping you up onto his horse, you sit in front of Din as his arms wrap around you to grasp the reins in his hands. Leading the horses out of town, with Gracie trailing slightly behind and to the side, he relaxes his grip on the rope as the horses follow the road, resting his hand on your thigh, rubbing it through the thick fabric of your skirt. 

Placing his hand low on your belly, he pulls you tighter to him and his hand wanders down to press into your mound through the material. His fingers digging into the juncture between your thighs, you softly exhale and arch into his touch, feeling a rush of arousal leak through the thin material of your drawers as he continues his movement. 

Pulling his hand away, he trails it upwards and roughly palms your breast through your shirt, pressing his chest into your back and resting his chin on your shoulder. Dipping his fingertips into the opening of your shirt, he gently undoes one of the buttons and then another. Slipping his hand into the opening, you feel the dry, rough skin of his palm slide into the top of your shift, his fingers gently brushing against the swell of your breast.

“I can’t wait to get you in that tent, girl”, he murmurs, his fingers gliding over your soft skin. Brushing his lips against your temple, he strokes your skin one more time before pulling his hand out and straightening your shirt as best as he can. Dropping his hand back to your lap, he gently pats your leg, and you feel him twist in the saddle when he turns to tell Gracie that you are almost there.

Once you arrive at the site; a smallish patch of worn earth next to the riverbank in the shade of a large tree, the rest of the afternoon is spent on setting up for the night. Gracie follows Din the whole time, eagerly assisting him with all of his tasks as you help where you can. 

Unrolling and straightening out the bedroll in the tent while thinking about Din’s fingers earlier on the horse, you crawl out and glance over at him as he stands on the riverbank while Gracie fishes. Catching his eye, you realize he has been watching you this whole time and when you shyly smile, he winks at you.

Hot from the heat of the sun, the three of you strip down to nothing to swim in the cool river. The water rinsing the sweat from your skin, you submerge yourself under the surface repeatedly, taking pleasure in the way your body is suspended in the gentle current; your hair waving gently around your face as you float.

Popping up for air, you watch as Din carries a shrieking Gracie into a deeper section of the river, one arm wrapped firmly around the small of her back, the other hand palming her backside as he holds her up. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you listen to their laughter and their muted voices as Din tells her to hold her breath; on the count of three, they disappear under the water together. 

Swimming over to them, the three of you play in the water for a while: teaching Gracie how to float (a task she takes very seriously until she gets it), taking turns holding your breath underwater to see who can hold it the longest (you think you won, but you can’t tell because Din kept gliding his hand between your thighs or pinching the soft skin of your belly until you gave up) and climbing onto Din’s back as he wades through the water; your slippery skin sliding against each other’s just like it does in the bath and your chin resting on his shoulder as he tells you the latest news on the kid.

Deciding he’s ready to dry off, Din swims over to a large, flat rock bordering the river bank and climbs out onto it; your eyes admiring the way his shoulders and back flex with effort as he pulls himself up; his bronze skin glistening with water. Gesturing to Gracie to follow you, the two of you swim over to join him and leaning back on his hands, his legs spread wide and hanging off the rock into the water, he smiles as you both come closer.

“Well, look what we have here; a couple of sirens coming to lure me back into the depths.” Sitting up with a cinch of his belly, he reaches towards Gracie to cup her chin in his hand while sliding his thumb over her plump bottom lip as she presses herself against his shin, her hand sliding up the inside of his thigh and gently circling his cock. Watching it stiffen under her touch, you pull yourself out of the water onto the rock and he leans to press a kiss to your wet hip when you climb up next to him, turning to lay flat on your back on the hot stone.

“Oh no, baby”, Gracie corrects him, “we aren’t sirens, we’re mermaids.” Hitching herself higher on his leg in the water, she strokes him with a firmer grip as he watches her hand move up and down. “Mermaids don’t lure you into the depths; they only come to seduce unsuspecting, handsome men.”

He hums in understanding as he closes his eyes, his hand reaching out for the inside of your thigh and squeezing it tight before he slides it up, brushing his fingers through the soft hair that covers your cunt. Cupping your damp center with his hand, he rests it there as gently runs the pad of his finger lightly over your seam while focusing on Gracie’s strokes, relaxing into her grip as his breathing deepens with a sigh.

Pulling herself slightly higher out of the water, she brings herself up between his legs and rubs the thick tip of his cock over her lips; a deep groan coming from his chest when she pokes her tongue out to lick a stripe up the underside before giving it an open mouthed kiss. His mouth hanging open in pleasure, his hand stills on you when he tips his head back, leaning back on his hand and shifting his hips forward on the rock.

You hear the giggle before you feel the cold water – Gracie gives him one last kiss and firm squeeze before pushing abruptly away from the rock with a laugh and splashing the two of you as she swims away. Flinching at the sudden movement, Din calls out to her, telling her to come back, but she just giggles before dipping her head under the water.

A sudden darkness overtaking your field of vision, you squint up at him as he leans over you and you feel the tension rolling off his body when he stretches out on top of you; his knee digging in between your legs to open them wider to make space for himself. Resting his weight on his forearms, he nuzzles his nose into your neck and presses his hard length against the inside of your thigh, gently grinding it into the yielding flesh there.

Loosely resting your hands on his sides, you smooth the now dry skin with your palms before winding your legs around his hips, flexing your pelvis upwards to line him up with your entrance. Not caring at all that you both are outside in broad daylight, he sinks into you, the rock hard against your shoulders as you shift up from his thrust and noticing the slight grimace on your face from the scrape, he rolls over onto his back and takes you with him, pulling you on top of him. His broad hands cupping your ass and pressing down to keep his cock snug inside, he plants his heels on the rock and pushes up into you, watching the sunlight shine against your hair from your drape over his chest. 

“Show me, girl”, he whispers to you, reaching up to cup your cheek in his hand as you slide your hips forward; both of you laughing softly at his next request. “Show me how mermaids do it.”

–

Looking forward to her first real campfire all day, Gracie helps Din build the fire as soon as dusk descends. Sitting on the ground, propped against a log with you resting between his open thighs, Din watches as the light from the flames plays across Gracie’s features before starting his tale. Laying on her belly next to you both, her chin rests in the heel of her hand as she gazes at the fire and listens.

The story, about a man and a ghost horse, is more funny than scary and at the end of it, Gracie seems disappointed; telling the both of you that she has a real scary story to tell. Creeping his hand up under the hem of her skirt and gently settling it on the back of her knee, Din listens as Gracie begins the story, his fingers ghosting a circle into the soft flesh of her leg as she talks. The story, shockingly scary, has you turning your face into Din’s chest as he pulls you tighter; his hand ceasing its movement on her leg as he stares at the back of her head. 

“Gracie!”, you scold her when she is finished. “That was really scary!”

She twists to look back at the both of you, laughing at your shocked expressions. “I know, right?”

“Jesus”, Din lowly exclaims, rubbing your arm briskly as you curl into his body. “Where did you hear that?”

“Marcus told it to me”, Gracie replies, a grin on her face. “Isn’t it great?”

You huff out a laugh at Din’s expression, his eyes rolling towards the night sky as he lets out an impatient groan. 

“Always with this marshal.” Scowling at her, he moves to get off the ground and pulls you up first and then Gracie and leading you both towards the tent, he pulls the flap back as you both crawl in. “Let’s see if I can’t make you forget about him for a while.”

–

The tent is a small, slightly cramped thing, not made for more than two people, so the three of you take turns lying in the middle of the bedroll as the other two work to remove your clothes. Too impatient to wait, Din unbuttons his flannel to cast it to the side and peels off his undershirt immediately, reaching down to work the button of his jeans open while you and Gracie help each other. 

A lantern hanging from the top of the tent is the sole source of light and as you lay on your back, you look at up him and you feel your breath catch at the sight: his skin rich and golden in the lanterns glow, his features are darker than ever in the dim light; his hair and mustache a warm brown against his skin, his eyes blacker than you’ve ever seen them. He sees you watching him and leans down to help Gracie; her hands tugging at your skirt while his fingers deftly work open the buttons of your blouse.

Everyone free of their clothing, Din moves to straddle your body, lightly placing the weight of his seat on your hips as he palms the weight of your breasts and you skim your nails over the tops of his firm thighs, smiling up at him. Leaning down to place an open-mouthed kiss on one nipple and then the other, you watch the crown of his head as he tastes you and arch up into the hot, warm heat of his mouth. 

He leans further down still, licking a wide, wet stripe up the center of your chest and then pulling back so you can see his face, he keeps his eyes steady on yours when he gathers saliva in his mouth and lets it slowly drip out past his lips onto your skin. Having never seen him do anything like this before, you are fixated on the suspended string that glistens in the light and you watch his rough hands push your breasts together as he shuffles his knees forward to rest his thick cock against your chest. Closing the flesh around his firm length, he gently flexes his hips forward and back, forward and back and you watch as the head of his cock disappears and reappears with each smooth thrust. Breathing heavily as he watches the sight himself, he asks Gracie to come help him.

Crawling over above your head, she leans over you as she places her hands on top of his, squeezing the plush flesh of your breasts together and he slides his hand out from under hers, reaching back behind him to drag his fingers down through the hair over your mound and into your cunt. Letting your knees fall open, you tilt your hips up towards his touch and let out a soft moan before Gracie bends down to swallow it, pressing her mouth to yours. Kissing you thoroughly for a moment, her soft mouth molding to yours, she pulls away when Din gently pushes on her shoulder. 

“I want her eyes on me, Gracie”, he says. “I wanna see my girl’s face.”

Your hooded eyes take in the sight of him moving above you, your torso cradled in his sturdy thighs, the sparse scattering of hair over his belly that leads to his cock, the long, lean line of his torso as he bends back to press two fingers deep inside your slick center. Your hips moving in time with his, his pulls his wet fingers out of you and brings them to Gracie’s mouth, holding them in front of her lips until she opens them and sucks on the digits.

Sliding his fingers out of her mouth, he climbs off of you and motions for Gracie to take your place on the bedroll, positioning her on all fours with her back to him. Scooting to the side, you watch as he slides his hand up between her thighs and forces them wider apart, spreading her for him. 

“Do you want my cock, Gracie?”, he asks, sliding the thick head of it between her folds, coating it with her wetness. 

“Yes”, she moans, trying to push herself back on it and you watch Din’s face, a deep ache between your thighs at the way he licks his lips before sliding into her. Reaching to place his hand on the back of her head, he grasps her hair in a tight fist and tugs on it until her head pulls back before telling you to sit in front of her. 

“You ready, sweet girl?”, he asks in a strained voice and not waiting for an answer, he eases himself out before lining up again; this time slamming back into her, his hips jolting her forward into you and you scoot closer to brace your hands against her shoulders to keep her in place as he fucks her. His hips snapping against her ass, she lets out a loud cry when he keeps the fast pace up, reaching under her to rub at her clit.

“Hold her steady, girl”, he commands, his eyes looking up to make sure you heard what he said before tugging harshly on her hair again and he keeps his eyes on you when he tells you to spread your legs; he wants to see Gracie fuck you with her mouth. 

Moving quickly, you sit on the ground in front of Gracie and open your legs, sliding closer to her as you feel the hot gusts of her breath fan over your wet center and all three of you moan when she takes her first lick: her mouth impossibly soft compared to Dins, her plump lips slide against your slippery folds as she immediately extends her tongue into you, fucking you with it in time with Din’s thrusts. Dropping from her hands to her elbows, you move further into her grasp as she grips your hips and pulls you towards her mouth, a soft, muffled whimper coming from her as she slides her tongue up to your clit.

Pulling away from you, her mouth shiny with arousal, she closes her eyes in a frown. “I’m – I’m gonna come, Din; I’m gonna come.” Rocking herself back onto him, she lets out a hoarse cry when he pulls his hand away from her clit and pulls out of her.

“No you’re not”, he says harshly. His hands painfully curled around her hips, he tells her that she can only come when you do and you can tell instantly that this is punishment for her trick earlier; that this was his plan all along.

“Let me see you make my girl come, Gracie. If you’re a good girl and you do it, I’ll let you come on my cock.” At the last part of the sentence, Din presses just the thick tip of himself into her and she whimpers yes while reaching for you again.

Her hands gripping your ass to pull you close, she slides her tongue back into you, this time more urgent with her licks. Having watched Din do it so many times by now, she knows exactly what you need in order to come and she uses the tip of her tongue to gently rub tight circles over your clit before sucking on it. You open your legs wider and grind your hips against her face, unable to look away from her looking up at you as she slides, slides, slides her tongue over that bundle of nerves. 

Moving quickly to your side, Din grips your jaw in his hand and roughly kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and you tip over the edge as their mouths move in tandem, a rush of arousal soaking Gracie’s chin as Din holds you steady; his hand pulling on your thigh to keep your legs open as they tense under his grip. 

Leaving your side once you catch your breath, Din stretches out next to Gracie and pulls her on top of him, guiding her leg up and over his lap until she is straddling him. Her eyes dazed with lust, she immediately leans forward to grab his face in her delicate hands and kisses him hungrily. Growling into her mouth, he can taste you on her lips and he reaches blindly for you, finding your arm and tugging you forward until you crawl over to sit behind her. 

Settling on his thighs, you pull Gracie away from him and into your body, her back against your chest and sliding your hands down her sides you feel her plush ass against your mound when she starts rocking against his thick length, working him in. Placing his own broad hands on top of yours, you both work together to press her down further onto his cock; a whine crawling out of her throat with how full she feels like this.

She listens as you murmur praise in her ear: how she is such a good girl making you come like that, how she is doing so well taking such a thick cock and Din joins in, telling her how good she feels, how tight she is around him, how she always knows just what you both need.

Feeling her thighs tense over his hips with how overwhelmed she is, Din tightens his hold and you help guide her hips over him as her hands grasp your forearms, her nails digging into your skin when you reach a hand around and swiftly glide the pads of your fingers over her clit. Feeling her clamp down on him, he watches as you help her come, her head tipped against your shoulder and her mouth hanging open in a pant as you press kisses to the damp skin of her shoulder, her back, her neck.

“Look at my good girls”, he murmurs, watching as you softly kiss her cheek and hold Gracie tighter to you, her body a soft press against yours as you embrace her. Knowing that Din hasn’t come yet, you touch your lips to Gracie’s ear and gently motion for her to climb off and when she does, you slide back further onto his legs and lean forward in an echo of her motions at the lake earlier today: circling his shiny cock with your fist, you stroke him a couple of times before licking firmly up the underside of his head; a drop of precome leaking out onto your tongue. He is so close, you know it won’t take much and grasping him firmer in your hold, you repeat the motion; this time pressing a lush kiss to the tip of him before taking him into your mouth.

“Yes - just like that, girl”, his voice straining as you feel his thigh tense under your palm. Sucking on just the tip, you swirl your tongue slowly around the head of his cock, making your tongue flat and licking at the underside of it. Your cheeks hallowed with the effort; he watches you with his mouth slightly open, a frown settled into his brow. When you take slightly more of his length into your mouth, he groans and tries to flex his hips upwards so you take it all, but you quickly pin his hip back down to the ground, holding him there.

Leaning your weight into your hand, you hold him tight as you continue to slowly tease him. Looking through your eyelashes up the plane of his body, you watch as his chest heaves, the underside of his jaw shifting with strain and his broad shoulders flexing against the hard ground as he tries again to arch into your mouth. 

Finally letting him, you wish you could see his face when he comes: the spurt of it flooding your mouth as he groans loudly and pushes your face all the way down to the base of him, holding you there as he comes down your throat. Your eyes watering, you swallow around him until he begins to soften in your mouth and even then you slide your tongue against him until he pulls out with a sharp inhale and jerk of his hips.

The three of you exhausted, he finds the bundle of discarded clothing and fishes out his kerchief; a thin, worn thing usually worn around his neck, using it now to clean you both. Wiping it first over your chin where a small drop of come is smeared, then between you and Gracie’s damp thighs, drying off any lingering slick from your skin. 

Throwing it back into the pile, he situates himself between the two of you, gathering you both into his sides after he settles the wool blankets over the top. Having been asleep for a while, Gracie deeply sighs as she rests her arm low across his belly, seeking the warmth of his body out in her sleep. Reaching up to turn the lantern off, you stretch out against Din’s side, pulling his face to yours for a kiss before resting your head on his shoulder. His breathing sliding into the deep, rhythmic pattern of someone who is asleep, you close your own eyes and listen to it for a while before succumbing yourself.

– 

Feeling like you’ve only been sleeping for a few hours, you groggily open your eyes when Din lightly shakes your shoulder. Having shifted in the night, his front is pressed to your back, his warm hand rests on your hip as he whispers in your ear. “Wake up, girl – I wanna show you something.”

Closing your eyes, you feel the cold air against your skin as he rolls over and you hear him try to wake Gracie; listening to her voice, thick with sleep, as she tells him curtly, “No.”

Turning back to you, he snakes his arm around your side, and you lean back into his warmth for a moment as he peeks at you to make sure you are awake. Feeling him smile against your shoulder, you watch his hand reach out to push the tent flap to the side.

Looking out, you see the world outside is clinging to the night, the stars only just visible through the hazy, muted color of dawn. The top of the sky a dark blue color that slowly brightens as you follow it down to the ground, the sun just peeking over the horizon. You feel Din’s arm squeeze you tighter, his forearm pressed over your chest, his knees up behind yours and you smile to yourself that he planned this; this positioning of the tent to face the rising sun.

Rolling over to face him, you brush a lock of hair away from his brow as he stares back at you, his own small smile on his face. “Do you like it, girl?”, he asks, his voice soft with adoration.

Leaning closer, you put your mouth on his and nod, sliding your nose against his cheek before kissing him. Putting all of your emotions in to the kiss: how generous he was to bring you both on this trip, how thoughtful he always is when it comes to you, how he looked last night in the tent, the warm glow of the lantern on his body as he writhed under your touch and you gently push him onto his back, climbing on top of him.

Pulling back from the kiss, his hands cup your face and he gazes back at you, his eyes roving over your features before kissing you again. Feeling him hard against you, you reach down and guide him in; slowly sinking down on his cock as he exhales into your mouth and deepens the kiss. Wrapping his hand around the back of your head, he pulls you down into the crook of his neck as you slowly ride him, your arms wrapped around his head, hands sliding into his thick locks.

Turning your face into the damp folds of his neck, your lips brush against his skin when you ask him what he sees. 

Smiling at the memory of when he asked you the same question, he turns to face you and watches as you rise above him, bracing yourself on his chest. Rolling your hips against him, his breath catches at the sight of you: the morning sun only just illuminating your skin, making your hair glow like a halo around your face. His face creases into a smile when he places his hands on top of yours and replies. 

“Only you.”


	13. THE CONFESSION

It’s been several weeks since Din’s seen you last and he lingers in the bath longer than usual tonight, savoring the warm, slippery press of your body against his, your soft caresses, your scent; the hot steam of the bath catching it and making it fill the air around him.

He is tempted to slip his cock inside you, just to be completely enveloped in your warmth, but he can’t seem to find the right time to get your attention – you’ve been talking to Gracie ever since he walked in, about a dance happening in the next town over. He doesn’t mind it though; content enough to listen to the conversation and liking the way you look when you are excited about something, he slides his eyes shut as you play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

“The dresses”, you sigh dreamily, “what do you think those are like?”

“I bet they would be beautiful”, Gracie replies, leaning her elbow on the rim of the tub. “All silk and lace and – wait. Do they wear those hoop things?”

“Yes”, Din replies, his eyes still closed and the both of you look at him; the word being the first one you’ve heard from him in awhile.

You tug lightly on his damp curls until he opens his eyes, and he smiles at your puzzled expressions.

“I attend some of those parties sometimes”, he explains, looking between the two of you with a shrug. “They can be useful places to get information. I even caught a bounty at one once; the host was furious.”

Gracie’s eyes shine bright as she begs him to tell the story, her chin resting in her hand as she leans close. The deep rumble of his voice drifts into the background as you only halfway listen, preoccupied by the thought of what he must look like at these parties – it’s a concept that has never crossed your mind.

You slide your hands down over his neck, bracing them on his chest as your thumbs softly stroke the strong lines of his collarbones and you feel the vibration of his voice under your palms as you let your mind wander.

You imagine his body; his solid, firm form encased in a suit – the rich black material tightly fitting around his thighs or over his strong back. You picture him taking the jacket off, the tailored fit of a waistcoat accentuating his broad shoulders, the collar of his pressed shirt open to reveal his tanned throat; the feature you love so much, the one you think about when he is away. The soft skin there, the way it bobs when he speaks, the way it looked the first night you saw him as he swallowed his whiskey, the way it looks when he is under you, his head pressed back into the pillow as a groan crawls out of it ---

“You okay, girl?”, he asks, and you blink, the sound pulling you from your daydream. You can tell from the look on his face that he’s guessed what you were just thinking about, or has an idea anyway, and a wry grin tugs at his lips as he curls his hands around your hips and winks.

You shyly smile back at him and Gracie wrings out the rag into the tub before draping it over the side to dry.

“The dancing is what I want to see the most”, she says, leaning back in her chair and you nod in agreement, slightly squeezing your thighs together to soothe the low ache between them as the image of him dressed in fine clothes lingers in your mind.

“I’ve always wanted to learn those dances”, you admit, trying to scoot back on his thighs, but he holds you tight in place and subtly flexes his hips up against yours, watching your face with a smirk.

“I could teach you, girl”, he says and for the second time, the both of you look at him in surprise.

“What?”, he asks, raising his eyebrows in mock innocence. “Don’t I look like someone who knows how to dance?”

\--

“I had to learn when I was younger”, he explains, holding his limbs out as Gracie runs the towel along them. “My mother insisted. She imagined I would find a wife at one of those dances, someone from another well to do family.”

You temporarily pause, looking up at him from drying yourself off - you never knew he came from a privileged background; he’s never talked about his family before.

“I think she’d probably be disappointed in my choice”, he continues, his warm brown eyes admiring your face, watching as your features falter slightly at the statement, “Though I’m not.”

He reaches out for you and pulls you towards him, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip before leaning in to press a light kiss to your mouth.

Walking you over to your vanity, he hands you your robe and you shrug it on while watching him put his pants back on. Peering into your mirror, he takes your brush and runs it through his hair, slicking the stands straight back before turning to face the both of you.

“Now that I’m all fancy”, he says with a grin, looking down the length of his body, the top of his pants still unbuttoned, his chest and feet bare, “it’s time for a dance lesson.”

Gracie’s body is almost vibrating with eagerness and he reaches for her first, laughing at how quickly she assumes her position and how serious she looks. You lean your hip against your table and watch the two of them; the way he takes Gracie’s hand in his own, holding it high in the air as he gently guides her down the length of the room, explaining the dance. It isn’t complicated, a series of steps repeating themselves in a pattern and they laugh as they bow at each other before starting again.

Her face in scrunched in concentration, she watches his feet carefully on the way back and he pulls her close for a second, guiding her in front of him as he slides one arm behind her waist to grasp her right hand and pulls her left hand across the front of him, holding it lightly. Walking her back to you, he lets her go and she immediately makes him repeat the steps.

You watch as he walks away from you, his muscles lightly flexing under his tanned, smooth skin, the dip of his lower back above the loose waist of his pants and he must feel your gaze on him because he twists his head back to look at you; a lock of his damp hair hanging over his brow. He says nothing, smiling at you before twirling Gracie around to walk back.

Reaching the vanity again, he bows to her and kisses her hand lightly.

“The pleasure was all mine, ma’am”, he says in a reverential tone and she laughs; both at the joy of being fawned over and also at the sight of this shirtless man bowing to her, looking up at her with a wink.

Letting go of her hand, she steps to the side when he reaches for you.

“You ready for your lesson, girl?”, he asks lowly and you shyly approach him, placing your hand in his. His grip is firm and warm as he pulls you closer and you try to assume your position like Gracie did, but he keeps pulling on your arm until you are flush against his body.

“Wait a minute, mister”, you say quietly, looking up at him with a smile. “I don’t think this is right.”

“Who’s the teacher here?”, he teases you, a stern look on his face as he drapes your arm around his neck. Placing your other hand on his chest, he slides his arms around you, one hand bracing against your lower back and the other reaching down to cup your backside; his palm sliding over the slippery silk. “Trust me, this is exactly how they do it.”

“They can’t”, you laugh as he begins to turn you in a slow circle. “What about their hoop skirts? You wouldn’t be able to get this close.”

“Don’t I know it, girl”, he sighs, his lips brushing against your temple. “Those damn things always get in the way.” He pulls away to look down at your chest pressed against his, the collar of your robe open to show a wide gap of flesh between the soft silk. “Good thing you aren’t wearing one; I wouldn’t be able to hold you like this. Just how I want to.”

Pressing you tightly to his body, you rest your ear against his warm, bare chest and listen to him hum a song; the bass of his voice vibrating against your cheek. Swaying to the music, you melt into him; cupping your hand around the back of his neck while your thumb absentmindedly strokes the soft hair along his neckline.

Normally quick to rush through his bath to get you into bed, he has been uncharacteristically patient during this visit, as if your company alone was all he came for but as dances with you, turning you in a slow circle, you can feel his cock gradually stiffen as he presses your groin to his, the firm length pushing into your hip. 

You slide your eyes shut when he sings the lyrics: the words detailing a lively jamboree, he slows them down while dipping his fingers into the neck of your robe; the pads sliding against your skin as he pushes the fabric open, reaching down to untie the sash and you shiver; both from the ghosting of his fingertips and from the low murmur in your ear.

“So grab your partner, and hold on tight”, he sings, dropping the sash to the floor and sliding the robe off your shoulders. Placing his palm lightly on your breast, he feels the weight of it in his hand and looks at you, a small smile tugging at his lips at the next line. 

“Cause we ain’t stoppin, till’ we see the light.”  
\--

“Another reason those skirts are no fun”, he murmurs, kneeling on the floor as your thighs cradle his torso, “is because I wouldn’t be able to do this.” 

Resting his broad hands on the inside of your thighs, he slides them up, slowly spreading you open for him.

Sitting behind you, Gracie pulls you back into her body as you shift your hips to the edge of the mattress and you watch as he leans in to kiss the crease of your hip; a gentle touch of his lips before mouthing the skin there.

“I wouldn’t be able to touch you like I want”, he mumbles against your skin and your body tenses against Gracie’s when he slides the tip of his finger through your wet folds, before leaning in to kiss just over your entrance. “Wouldn’t be able to taste you like I want.”

His tongue glides through your cunt and you suck a breath in at how wet his mouth feels against you, his tongue a warm liquid heat inside your cunt and you arch into the feeling as he holds your hips steady. Looking up at you with the thick waves of his hair falling over his brow, you reach down to push it back with your hand before pulling him closer, cupping your hand over the crown of his head. Your hips roll against the slide of his tongue and he scoots closer to you, his broad shoulders forcing your legs open wider.

“Kiss her, Gracie”, Din quietly orders, and her hand reaches up to tilt your face towards hers. Her mouth is always so soft in comparison to Din’s and her sweet breath mingles with yours as she gently opens your mouth with hers.

“We gotta take good care of our girl”, he tells her before putting his mouth back on you and Gracie deepens the kiss as he slides his tongue against your clit. They move in tandem, her tongue slipping into your mouth just as his slips inside of you and his hands hold you tight against his mouth as you whimper into hers.

“You taste so good, girl”, he tells you, licking a wide, flat stripe up through your seam. “You always taste so sweet, just like you look.” 

Sliding the tip of his tongue up from your entrance, he draws your slick into his mouth and swallows, licking his lips with a hum before putting his mouth back on you. Gliding his tongue over your clit, he watches as you kiss Gracie and reaches down to palm his cock; pressing the heel of his hand along the length of it before wrapping his hand around the base, squeezing lightly.

He groans at the sensation and you pull away from Gracie to look down at him. You can see his bicep flexing as he strokes himself, his mouth still buried in you and you try to pull away from him; begging him to come up and fuck you, but he growls into your cunt as he laps at it harder, his tongue firmly pressing against your clit.

Your body curling into the feeling, Gracie pulls you back against her and you are trapped; pinned between his mouth and her hold and you feel the spreading warmth seeping through your hips and down as he keeps stroking your clit with his tongue.

“Din”, you beg, tipping your head back against Gracie’s chest, “Din, please.”

Please what, you don’t know; you can’t even think about anything but his tongue and he doesn’t answer you anyway, pulling you tight against his mouth with a grunt, draping your legs over his shoulders to get closer.

You think about how shiny his mouth will be when he pulls away from you, how his cock must look in his fist right now, how his back looked when he danced with Gracie, how it feels right now under your calves, how he would look in that waistcoat you’d imagined and he doesn’t stop; his tongue relentless against your clit until you come with a cry; a rush of arousal sliding into his mouth.

Gracie’s hands smooth over your stomach as she holds you, feeling it twitch under her palms as aftershocks flow through your body and Din still doesn’t take his mouth off of you; not until you reach down to push him away with a tired shove.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he presses kisses to your hip and your belly and bracing himself on the edge of the mattress, he leans up to kiss your sternum before resting his head there, sliding his arms around Gracie’s backside.

Catching your breath, you slide your hand over his head, twirling a curl around your finger when he looks up at you, the mussed crown of his hair tousled and sinful looking.

“That was your reward, girl, for being a good student”, he smiles. Reaching up to stroke Gracie’s cheek, his eyes grow heated as he presses his thumb into her mouth, watching as she sucks on the digit.

“Now I think it’s Gracie’s turn.”

\--

It’s late, Gracie having slipped back to her room to get some sleep and the two of you lay entwined together, your hushed voices the only sound in the room.

“I never knew you grew up in a wealthy family”, you say, your cheek resting against his shoulder.

“Yea”, he replies, dragging his fingertips down the length of your forearm and back up again, repeating the action on a loop. “It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about it. My parents died when I was a young man; too young to be responsible for myself, let alone a household.”

He is silent for a moment, lost in thought before a continuing with a sigh.

“I didn’t take it very well. I fell in with a rough crowd, eventually getting caught up in bounty hunting as a means to make money and I never went back.” He huffs a laugh, and you look up at his face, a rueful smile there. “I really do wonder what my mother would think – this is a far cry from the life I’m sure she had planned for me.”

“I think she would be proud of you”, you reply, resting your chin on his chest. “You’re a good man.”

His hand freezes on your arm and he looks down at you, asking you to repeat what you said.

Pulling yourself higher up on his body, you get closer to his face and softly repeat your words as you trace the line of his jaw with your finger. 

“You’re a good man, Din Djarin.”

You can’t describe the way he is looking at you right now, the intensity of his gaze, the longing in it and you suspect no one has told him this in a very long time; if ever. 

Looking at him in the dark, you think about what his mother might have wanted for him and about how he lives now; the two being so vastly different. You think about how he could be living if he had stayed, the wife he could have found, the children he might have by now and you tell yourself that he has chosen this life; chosen to spend his time with you, but you can’t help but compare yourself – a working class whore, if you’re being honest – to what he could have had. You think about his comment from earlier, about his mother being disappointed with his choice of partner and fit your face into his neck when you ask him if he regrets it.

“What?”, he asks, reaching to pull your face back up to look at him.

“Do you regret what you did”, you repeat, referring to his choices, even though that’s not the question you really want to ask. Deciding to be brave, you ask it. 

“Do you regret not finding a wife at one of those dances? One of those fancy women?

Looking at you for a moment, he turns towards you, rolling you onto your back and making sure you are looking him directly in the eyes before he speaks.

“I don’t regret anything, girl”, he tells you. “Not leaving, not this life, not any of my choices - and especially not finding myself a fancy lady to marry.”

You smile at the way he makes a face at the word “fancy lady” and reach up to stroke the hair at his temple. Turning his face into your touch, he kisses the heel of your hand before shifting on the bed, sliding his body between your legs.

“What use would I have for one of them?”, he asks you, dragging his nose up along the center of your chest, nuzzling it into the hollow of your throat. “You think they would fuck me like you do?”

Your breath catches at the turn in the conversation, at the sudden crudeness of it and he smiles against your neck at catching you off guard. “Think any of them would let me eat their cunt the way I like to eat yours?”

“I don’t know”, you reply, tipping your chin up as he presses kisses to your skin, his hair sliding against your cheek. “Did you ask them?”

He laughs in surprise, pulling back to look at you and you raise your eyes in question, waiting for him to respond.

“Maybe I should have, girl”, he replies. Clearing his throat, he imitates a polite tone. “Excuse me, m’am – may I have this dance? And can I lick your –”

“Stop”, you laugh, covering his mouth with your hand and you see his eyes crinkle above it as he smiles; his eyebrows wiggling up and down. Turning his face away from your hand, he leans down to kiss you, your lips pressing into each other’s as you both keep smiling and he nibbles at your bottom lip before opening his mouth wide to softly bite your chin before kissing it.

“Even if they did say yes” he says softly, reaching up to brush your hair back from your face, “I wouldn’t want any of them. None of them hold a candle to you, girl.”

“You’re just saying that because I let you do whatever you want to me”, you joke, and he stays quiet as he shakes his head.

“No”, he replies, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m saying that because you’re better than they are.”

You lightly scoff, rolling your eyes at the statement and leans down to kiss you. It’s soft at first, slowly building in urgency as he slants his mouth over yours, opening up to you with a deep inhale to breathe you in as he licks into your mouth.

The mood of the room slowly becomes more heated as he keeps kissing you – it’s like he’s trying to communicate something to you, trying to show you how he feels with the kiss and you push back, sliding your hands up through the back of his hair to pull him closer. His mouth devours yours, a deep hum into it when he grinds his hips against you and you reach down between your bodies to circle him with your hand.

“No”, he pants, his breathing heavy as he pulls your hand away from his cock, bringing it back up to his face. Pressing a kiss to your palm, he follows the line of your wrist, his moustache tickling your skin and he kisses it once, twice before leaning back down to heatedly kiss you.

Confused as to why he stopped you from touching him, you try to reach down again and he grabs your hand a second time, pressing his fingers between yours as he pushes your hand into the bedding.

“Let me show you, girl”, he quietly pleads, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his breath and you don’t quite understand what he means, but you wind your legs around his waist as he lines his cock up, the thick, blunt tip of it pressing against your entrance for a moment before he pushes slowly into you.

He watches your mouth stretch open in silent moan as he fills you, your slick walls gripping him tightly as he slides in and he doesn’t stop until you are fully fitted together; his hips pressed tight against yours. Keeping your hands entwined, he rests the heavy weight of his body on you as he reaches down to hook your leg up over his hip, slowly pulling out of you and rocking back in.

“Din—“, you breathe and he kisses you deeply, cutting you off. His face scrunched in effort, his mouth sliding over yours, he squeezes your hand tighter in his grip as he strokes smoothly into you and you can feel his ragged breathing when he rests his lips against yours.

“You are better than they are”, he says and you whimper at the words; like he saw straight into your heart and found your worries, seeking to push them out and fill it with reassurance, with praise; with him. 

You feel so full with the stretch of him when he pushes into you, but it’s nothing compared to the fullness in your chest and you are grateful that the room is dark when a small tear leaks down across your temple into your hair. 

His lips nestled on your collarbone; you close your eyes to feel his mouth, warm and delicate on your skin and sigh into his touch as he gently cups your breast, running the rough pad of his thumb over the soft underside.

Another tear when his hushed voice chants in your ear, a praise for each thrust. You’re better than those rich people, girl. A deep thrust. Better than anyone. Another one. The best girl. Another one. My best girl and when his tongue licks at the small drop running over your skin, you pull him in for kiss.

Cupping his face, his sparse stubble scraping against your palms, you open your mouth to him and you can taste the sharp salt of your tear in his kiss; a soft moan escaping from your throat at the feeling of his weight pressing you deep into the mattress; at his arms surrounding you; at the way he is moving inside of you.

Pressing his face into the space between your neck and the pillow, he inhales your scent as he mouths at the damp skin there and when he pulls back, you want to cry with how he is looking at you; his dark eyes pleading. 

“Love me, girl”, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers; a kiss before he slides his nose across your cheek. “Love me like I love you.”


	14. THE WORSHIP SERVICE

Your bedroom is warm with the light of the afternoon sun seeping through your curtains; a tray with scraps of food discarded on a table in the corner.

Lying on your back, Din has positioned you on the bed: your head on the pillow, your arms spread wide, palms up; relaxed fingers curled inward, the rest of your body stretched down the middle of the bed. You lay there as he climbs over you, straddling your hips and gently settling his weight onto you.

Taking his time to look at you, his eyes soaking in the sight, he leans forward to cup your breasts with his rough hands, pushing them up and running the pads of his thumbs along the soft underside. His hands mirroring each other, they stroke the sensitive skin there before moving up and over your nipples; his hooded eyes admiring the contrast between your smooth, unblemished skin and his own; calloused and tanned by the sun.

You reach up to caress his face, but he pushes your wrist back down into the mattress where it was before, pressing his weight into it to signal you to keep it there. Easing up, he trails his fingers down the inside of your forearm, down past the crook of your elbow, over the soft flesh of your inner arm and back to your breast, where he resumes the gentle touching from before. Leaning further down still, he bends over you and pushes your breast into his mouth, opening his mouth over the peak of it and drawing it in; his tongue warm and slippery over your flesh.

Bent like this, you can feel his hard length pressed against your mound, can feel the soft slide of hair gathered above his cock against your belly and you press your pelvis up into his backside, encouraging him.

His wet mouth pulling away from you, the shine of his saliva on your skin, he meets your gaze and holds it, his dark eyes yearning and silently communicating his need.

Following the path from earlier, he runs his palms over your breasts, watching the flesh push up and then drop away when he moves his warm, dry hands over your shoulders and stretches his body out over yours as his hands make their way down your arms, softly pressing them into the mattress as he goes. Reaching your hands, he pushes your fingers open with his, entwining your hands together as he presses his face into your neck; inhaling your scent, feeling the tickle of your soft hair on his face.

Sitting back up, he pulls your hands up with him and cradles them to his chest before letting one drop to slowly open the curl of the other, pressing a kiss into the palm of it. Your other hand rests on top of his length, slowly circling it and pressing it against your belly while watching him and he closes his eyes for a moment with your hand still against his lips, before reaching for your other hand; picking it up and moving his hot mouth to the middle of it, pressing a kiss there.

Taking time to nuzzle his nose into the skin of your hand, you study the look on his face. His eyes closed in rapture, he cups your hands with his and presses them into this face, letting them glide and catch on the rough stubble covering his cheeks and jaw and you feel the tickle of his mustache against your fingers.

This worshiping pilgrimage of your body continues; no part of you untouched by him. Pressing his face into your hair, tracing your delicate eyelids with the tip of his finger, licking a wide stripe over your throat, running the tip of his nose down your sternum, pressing his ear against your chest to listen to your heart thrumming beneath the surface.

You lay there with a passive limpness, watching the top of his head move down your body, your fingers splayed into his thick, messy curls and you imagine how the two of you must look from above: his body crouched over you like he is devouring you, possessing you.

You think about the sermons you heard as a child in church, the one about a demon luring an angel down from the skies and when she was close enough, dragging her down to earth with him; wrestling her to the ground and claiming her. You know you are no angel, but when you feel his lips against your hip as he murmurs, “You are so fucking beautiful, girl”, you feel as if you are one.

Sliding down between your legs, he gently spreads them open and gives open mouthed kisses to the insides of your thighs, leaving a wet trail behind him. Lifting one thigh and placing it over his shoulder, you rest your foot between his shoulder blades and draw him towards your center. His eyes closed, his mouth open and his tongue peeking out, he gathers his saliva in his mouth; collecting it and letting it roll down his tongue before licking into you; absolutely coating your folds with wetness.

You arch into him, giving yourself to him as he licks deep inside of you. Pulling his head back, he looks up the length of your body and pleads, “I want you to come in my mouth, girl.” Softly spreading you with his fingers to reach your clit with the tip of his tongue, he licks once, twice. “I need it.”


	15. THE DEMAND

Used to it by now, the way you creep in sometimes in the early morning or in the middle of the night, Gracie doesn’t even open her eyes when she hears the soft click of her door as it opens; your shadowy figure quietly slipping into the room. 

Making your way over to her bed, you climb in and curl around her, seeking out her soft, warm heat and she makes room for you, adjusting the covers around your bodies.

Sometimes you come to talk, sometimes it’s just to sleep next to someone and waiting for a cue as to which it is tonight, she rolls onto her side to face you.

“He said he loves me, Gracie”, you tell her, looking at her from across the pillow and she reaches out to cup your cheek, resting her hand there.

“What did you say?”, she asks quietly, watching your face. “Did you say it back?”

The soft rustle of the sheets, the way he moved above you, inside of you. He said it and you said nothing for a moment; frozen as the words washed over you and then you pulled him close, his nose sliding along yours, his lips brushing against yours as you nodded. I do, I do, I do you said, I love you.  


You hear his words and your own in your head and you nod slowly, your eyes pleading with her not to lecture you. She doesn’t, she knows you already know you shouldn’t have done it; you don’t need to also hear it from her.

“Oh, honey”, she murmurs, reaching for your shoulder to pull you close. You drape your arm over her belly, resting your cheek on her shoulder and pressing yourself tight to her side as her arm curls up around the back of your head, her fingers softly stroking the hair at your temple.

The two of you lay quietly together for a moment, her fingers soothing against your scalp, her cool scent comforting.

“It’s like”, you say quietly, feeling slightly braver when she isn’t looking you directly in your eyes, “he was a customer and then – then it’s like he wasn’t.”

You can’t describe the way he has slowly slipped into your heart, seeped into the lining of it and found a place there; can’t put into words the way you didn’t even realize it was happening until it was too late – or maybe you did, but you resisted acknowledging it, knowing you shouldn’t have been letting it happen in the first place.

“But he still is a customer”, she quietly reminds you, her hand gently resting on your forearm. “He –”

“I know”, you reply, the sadness in your voice evident. Feeling like you are going to cry, you rapidly blink to clear away any tears and take a deep, slow breath. Peering up at her, she can see the way your eyes shine with moisture, the way you look at her; begging her to understand. “But he makes me feel so good, Gracie.”

She is quiet for a moment, her heart full at the knowledge of how good she knows he makes you feel; of how much you deserve it. She thinks about what his face looks like when he looks at you, when he talks to you, the way it lights up in his own quiet way when he walks in after long weeks away and her chest aches at the situation; aches for the both of you. 

“I know, baby”, she soothes, pressing your head down onto her chest. “I know.”

\--

“I want her with me”, the kid demands, looking up at Din. “I want Gracie with me tonight.”

“That’s not the way this works, kid”, he replies, letting out a deep sigh of impatience. “She stays with me.”

The two square off at the bar, their stances a mirror image: one hip cocked to the side, hands on their hips, a defiant tilt of the chin and you look away, pressing your lips together to keep from laughing.

Reaching his small arms around Gracie’s waist, the kid pulls himself tight to her, his cheek resting against her hip and she rests her hand on his thick mop of hair, softly stroking it up and away from his face.

“So demanding”, she smirks, looking at Din. “I wonder where he gets that from.”

You smile, sliding your hand into Din’s and he immediately grasps it, giving it a squeeze. He gives Gracie a warning look, his jaw shifting with thought as he surveys the kid for a moment before giving in.

“Fine”, he sighs.

You raise your eyebrows at the answer, and you can tell Gracie is surprised as well. No one has ever been able to talk Din out of having his two girls with him and you quietly observe how he gives in to the kid; the soft, resigned look on his face when he did it.

You almost make a quip about it, about how he is becoming soft, but you know that would be a mistake – he isn’t really and you’d likely end up paying for it in the end. Biting your lip at the thought of what would probably turn out to be a pleasant, albeit rough lesson, you pull yourself from the daydream when you feel him let go of your hand. 

Winding his arm around your waist, he watches as Gracie leads him away to her room, the two already chattering between themselves and Din’s words – “Be respectful and mind your manners, kid” – are responded to with a wave of his small hand as they round the corner.

\--

“Goddamn, girl”, his low voice hushed in awe. “You have the most gorgeous pair of tits I have ever seen.”

You laugh, not expecting that statement, though you should have seeing as how Din has been fondling them for the better part of the bath. Sliding your fingers through his wet hair, you slick the strands back while he hums in contentment; his tongue sliding over your nipple before pushing it up into his mouth and giving it an open-mouthed kiss. A deep, pleasure filled sound, like someone who is savoring a delicious bite of food hums out of his throat as he tastes the skin and you shift your hips on his lap to relieve the warm ache the sound creates between your legs.

Your voice is soft and teasing when you reply. “They all say that.”

His mouth breaking away only just far enough to answer, his lips brush against your nipple. “Well they should; it’s true.”

Smiling, you pull his head closer to you, sliding your hands down to gently massage his broad shoulders; his mouth moving to your other breast to continue his worshipping. The gentle lapping of the water and the occasional soft groan from Din being the only sounds in the room, he breaks the silence when he leans back to reach for the bar of soap; lathering his hands thoroughly before placing them back on your chest.

“What else do they say, girl?”, he quietly demands; trying and failing to remain casual in his delivery of the question.

Resting his warm hand over your sternum, his slides it up to your throat before gliding it back down, soaping your skin. Your skin slippery with suds, he cups your breasts, his thumbs tracing circles around each peaked bud. You study his face for a moment as he avoids your gaze, keeping his eyes fixed on his hands, on the way the white bubbles catch and slide over your nipples.

You know he doesn’t really want an answer to that question, and you couldn’t even tell him; his words are the only ones you commit to memory.

A small smile tugs at your lips when he eventually flicks his eyes up to you.

“Oh, a lot of things”, you softly reply.

You lean into his touch, the rough pads of his fingers stroking you; his broad hands covering each breast completely. Dragging your nails through the hair at his temples, you press a kiss to his damp forehead before continuing. “I once had a man tell me he was going to settle down in this town. Build a house. Take me home with him and keep me all to himself.”

His lips nestled against your collarbone; you feel him smile at the memory of his admission to you; one of his first visits.

Kissing your shoulder, he leans back to look at you. “Sounds like a love struck fool to me.”

You are quiet for a moment, an eyebrow raised in question when you reply. “Love struck, huh?”

His gaze steady on yours; his smile indulgent and adoring before wrapping his arms around your back to pull you close.

“Love struck.”

\--

“Are you serious, girl?”, he asks, his face a questioning frown while tilting his chin up to stroke his throat. “This? This is your favorite part of me?”

“Oh yes”, you reply, gently pulling his hand away and threading his fingers with yours while you lean it to kiss the soft skin, your tongue dipping into the hollow between his collarbones. “I think about it all the time. Your shirts always frame it so nicely too, I” – your mouth moves along the side of his neck, the skin warm under your lips – “I love when you leave the top buttons open. So I can peek at it.”

His hands skim down your sides, over the swell of your hips and around to your backside, pulling you closer to him as you straddle his lap and he leans back against the headboard, content in letting you continue your exploration.

“What about me?”, you ask, leaning back and admiring the wet trail you’ve left on his skin. “What is your favorite part of me?”

He rests his hand on the top of your thigh, smirking when his fingers begin to walk up your skin. You watch it, the digits gently pressing into your skin as they climb higher along the inside of your thigh and when they reach your cunt, softly stroking against you, you laugh.

“I should have kno—“

“Hush, girl”, he smiles, looking at you. “I’m not done.”

Giving you one last stroke, his fingers continue upwards and he huffs a laugh at the way your stomach jumps under his touch, his fingers crawling up the soft skin. You wait for him to rest them on your breasts, but he keeps climbing, watching your skin pebble under the ghosting touch.

He traces the delicate line of your collarbone for a moment, the smirk on his face slowly disappearing as he watches your chest rise and fall with a sigh and he keeps going, trailing his fingers over your shoulder before cupping the side of your neck.

“Is this it?”, you ask throatily, and he says nothing, shaking his head no.

Stroking the line of your jaw, he rests his thumb on your mouth and he feels your plush lips pull tight with a smile under his touch.

“This”, he says, watching as you press a kiss to his thumb. “This is my favorite.”

You poke your tongue out, licking the rough pad of the digit and watch as his eyes darken.

“I love your mouth, girl”, he says, tracing your lips. “The way it looks when you smile.” He watches it do just that, your cheeks stretching with the motion and he continues. “The way you bite on it when you’re thinking. The way it feels against mine when you kiss me.”

Sitting up with a cinch, he wraps his arm around your lower back as he draws you closer to him. His dark eyes are so close to your face, watching as you lightly suck on the tip of his thumb. 

“The way it looks when you suck my cock.” His voice lowers and you shiver pleasantly when he speaks. “The way it looks all shiny after you eat Gracie.”

Feeling his cock harden beneath you, you roll your hips over his and he holds you tight in place.

“The way it looks filled with my come, girl” he murmurs, and you whimper, rolling your hips again. “That’s my favorite.”

He pulls you in for a kiss and you immediately deepen it, grasping his face to pull him close. Your mouth fills with his warm breath, his tongue sliding against yours and you feel the vibration of a groan against your lips as he shifts under you. You cling tight to his body as he braces himself on the mattress and leans forward, tipping you onto your back before he settles his hot, heavy body between your legs.

He can feel how wet you already, your cunt sliding over his belly as he leans his weight into you and with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you flex your hips up against him.

“Is that what you want, baby?”, you ask, tipping your head against the bedding. “To fill my mouth?”

“No”, he replies lowly, watching the way your mouth hangs slightly open in a pant. “Not today.”

Reaching down to line himself up, he pushes into you and you both groan at the sensation; the tight press of your cunt, the way his cock drags along your walls. Holding himself inside, he doesn’t move, letting you get used to the full stretch and he kisses you softly, grinding his hips against yours.

“Please, Din”, you beg, resting your hands along his firm sides. “Please move.”

“I think I just wanna stay right here”, he teases, sliding his nose along your temple. “Your cunt feels so good girl, I don’t wanna move.”

You moan in frustration, the fullness of his cock overwhelming as it rests inside of you and he feels a slick rush of arousal coat him as he stays put.

“Think you can come just like this, girl?”, he asks, and you shake your head, sliding your hands down to his ass to encourage him to do something; anything. He doesn’t, his heavy body pressing you deeper into the mattress.

“Oh, I think you can”, he says, watching your eyes close as a small frown furrows between your brows. “I think if I do this”, and you feel his body pull away just enough for him to snake his hand between the two of you, his fingers dragging through your folds to find your clit, “rub you right here; I think you could do it.”

“Din”, you whine, his fingers quickly building a slow spreading warmth between your legs, “Please fuck me.”

He studies you for a moment, his fingers never stopping their glide against you as he gently rocks his hips against yours and you cry out yes, yes, please.

“You seem like you really need it, girl”, he says, watching your face and you frantically nod.

His hand leaving your clit, he pushes himself up off you and kneels between your legs, his fingers digging into your hips to pull them up onto his lap, keeping you tight on his cock. Quickly pushing his hair back, he admires the way you are laid out before him right now, the view he has of your spread cunt, his cock buried deep inside of you.

Finally pulling out of you, he smiles at the way you fist the sheets with a moan before dropping his eyes down to where you are joined. You have soaked his lap, the tuft of hair around the base of him damp with your slick and his cock is shiny with your arousal before he presses it back into you.

“I know you got fucked while I was away, girl”, he says, pulling out and thrusting back in. “Didn’t any of them fuck you right?”

“No”, you exhale shakily. “No one ever does. Only you.”

“Only me?”, he repeats, his hips slowly rocking against yours and you say it again.

“Only you, baby. Only you fuck me right.”

He slightly speeds up his thrusts at your words, his strokes inside of you strong and fluid and you cup your breasts, gently rubbing your fingers over the peaks as the ache inside you builds, making them tingle. He watches, wanting to touch them himself, wanting to put his mouth on them, but he keeps you in the position you are in, trapping you in place.

His fingers find your clit again, his calloused thumb dragging over it just right and your mouth falls open in a silent moan; your walls fluttering around his cock as he keeps thrusting inside you. The angle of your hips, the way they are pulled up on his lap; the tip of his cock keeps stroking against something deep, something overwhelming, something only he seems to be able to reach and you can feel your cunt clench down on him tightly. 

“Din, I –” you whimper, and he knows; he can see it on your face that what his cock is doing right now is different than other times he’s made you come. He keeps doing it, focusing on hitting the same spot over and over and you close your eyes, crying out as you rest your hands on his knees.

“Did any of them make you come, girl?”, he asks, pulling your hips tighter to him as he drags you over his cock.

“No”, you gasp, rocking your hips against his, focusing on the way the coil of heat is steadily building in your core.

“You needed my cock?”, he asks, pressing his thumb tighter on your clit as he rubs circles into it, and he groans at how you squeeze his cock tight at the motion.

“No”, you reply, shaking your head. “I – oh my god, Din – I needed you.”

You sob with the admission, arching your back with a whine at how your legs are starting to tremble, how your stomach is drawing up tight at what his fingers are doing, at what his cock is doing. He moves his thumb faster, his pupils blown wide at what you just told him, and he shifts his knees on the bed, scooting closer to you.

Fucking into you with harsh thrusts, you watch the way his stomach moves with the movement, the muscles on his sides flexing with the effort and you focus on the sounds he is making; his soft grunts with every push forward, his heavy breathing, his low groans. 

His thumb, it’s steady pressure against your clit while he fills you so completely with his cock; you know you are going to come soon, you can feel it in the way your breasts tingle, the way your hips are locking into place, the way your cunt is tightening around him.

“I'm gonna make you come, girl”, he rasps, his husky voice sounding desperate as he pulls his hand away from your clit to greedily suck on his fingers for a moment before bringing them back down to stroke you. You cry out at the sensation; your cunt already soaked but the saliva adding an extra slip against you and you dig your nails into the side of his thighs as you feel yourself start to bare down.

“Din!”, you cry out, reaching your hand up to hold onto his forearm and he can’t believe how wet you are when you come; soaking his lap as he fucks against that spot inside of you. The sight of his glistening cock disappearing inside of you before pulling out making him feral, he watches it for a moment as he works you through your release; the keening whimpers slowly sliding into softer ones as your limbs loosen.

“Come down here”, you ask breathlessly, reaching out for him. “I want you.”

He obeys immediately, leaning down over your spent body and you pull him close with surprising strength, needing to feel the heavy weight of him on you.

“I want you to make me come again”, you beg, lifting your head up off the bed to kiss him. “Please, Din - only you can do it.”

His cock swells inside of you at your words and he kisses you again, thrusting into you. His strokes are harsher this time, harder as he fucks you into the mattress and when you pull your legs up higher on his torso, he hooks one over the crook of his elbow so he can stroke deeper.

“Your cunt feels so good, girl”, he pants, grinding his hips against yours and you push up against his cock, rolling your hips in time with his thrusts. “I love fucking you like this, listening to those soft sounds come out of that sweet mouth.”

“I needed it just like this”, you tell him, sliding your hand up through his thick hair, curling your fingers over the crown of his head. “I needed you just like this.”

“Tell me how much you needed me, girl”, he groans, snapping his hips against yours and when you tell him so much, I needed you so much, I needed you to fuck me just like this he switches his pace; fucking into you with sharp, heavy thrusts that would jolt you up the bed if he wasn’t holding you in place.

There isn’t anything left to say, the desperation felt in the way you clutch at each other, the way he is trying to keep his touch gentle and reverent, but it keeps slipping into greed; into a feral type of need.

He needs to hear you say it; needs to hear you tell him how much you needed him but he also needs to show you how much he needed the same thing; how much he needed you just as much.

“You take it so good girl”, he murmurs, his mouth resting against yours, your pants of hot breath mingling together and you aren’t sure if he is talking about his cock or himself, with his all consuming nature but you do; you’ll take either; both; gladly and you’ll cry out for more.

Pulling his face tight into your neck as he curls into you, you come again and he holds his cock tight inside as you clench around it. You are so tight around him that he can’t move and when he feels the way you flood around his cock, he comes too, spilling inside with a choked groan.

Locked in a tight embrace, your bodies slowly loosen around each other’s as you kiss; your mouths sliding against each other’s, taking your time to savor the other, to breathe the other in. He loves how swollen your mouth feels, how lush your lips are as they mold around his and it’s like he can’t stop, or doesn’t want to. It’s been several weeks since he’s seen you last and it might be several more after he leaves, so he wants to make sure he gets his fill.

Eventually pulling away with a swallow, he catches his breath and looks down at you before kissing your chin, your cheek.

“Lay on me, girl”, he asks, pulling you over his body as he rolls over, settling into the mattress. You wrap your limbs around him, your arm resting over his chest to hook your hand over his shoulder, your thigh draped over his hip, pressing your leg between his. “I want to think about you just like this.”

“It would be so nice to have you in my bed all the time”, you say quietly, yawning widely after the statement.

He hums in agreement, pressing his lips to your hair. “You wanna come sleep in my tent with me every night?”

“No”, you reply with a small smile, thinking about how hard the ground was under you the last time you did it. “I didn’t say that; I said a bed. A real one.”

“That does sound nice”, he agrees, his words slightly slurred as he slides into sleep, his arms holding you close. “I’d sleep anywhere with you girl, but a real bed would be nice.”


	16. INTERLUDE: OIL BARON MAXWELL LORD

“Oh, Maxwell”, Gracie sighs, running her fingers over the fine silk, “it’s so beautiful.”

She tilts her head, admiring her reflection in the mirror for a moment before lifting her eyes up to Maxwell, standing behind her. Giving him a warm smile, she reaches her arm up and back to cup the crown of his head, pulling him closer to her.

Pressing a delicate kiss to her shoulder, he watches their reflections for a moment before going back to tightening the strings on the corset.

“I can’t wait to see you in this”, he says, his thick fingers deftly working the laces. “I had it specially made, just for you.”

Making sure his eyes are on her face when he does it, he tugs the strings tight in a sudden movement and Gracie lets out a soft “oof” sound; the stiff garment squeezing her, her breasts spilling over the top of the neckline.

“I think I know why you bought this one, baby”, she teases, smiling knowingly at him and he watches intently as her fingers trail over the swell of flesh. She can feel the heavy pant of his breathing on her neck, the warm gusts of it fanning over her skin and she watches his frown of concentration as he ties the laces; his fingers curling over her hips when he is done, pulling her close to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“Turn around”, he whispers, still looking at their reflections; his dark eyes gleaming with lust, “and get on your knees.”

—

“Maxwell”, Gracie coos, arching her back as she kneels on the floor. “You’re close aren’t you? You gonna come on me, baby?”

He says nothing, standing in front of her with his cock is in his fist; the thick, rigid length of it engulfed in his hand as he strokes himself. His thick blonde hair is draped over his brow as he looks down at her, his eyes fixed on her chest.

Scooting closer to him, she rests her hand on his thigh and squeezes the firm muscle. “You wanna come on my tits, baby?”, she asks, arching her back a little more to give him an unobstructed view. “I know that’s what you like, honey. You like to see it on me, don’t you?”

He groans deeply, his fist working himself faster and when she watches a drop of precome drip out, he groans again at the way she licks her lips.

“Come on, baby”, she softly urges him, squeezing his thigh tighter before gliding her hand up to stroke the soft hair above his cock and she can tell he is almost there, with the way his stomach is clenching tight.

They both watch when he finally does come with a loud groan; the thick spurts of milky liquid splashing onto her chest, pooling between her breasts and dripping onto the corset.

This is the part he likes the best; the way it runs down into the expensive silk, ruining it and as soon as he is done stroking out the last drops, he reaches out to smear the slick, hot liquid over the tops of her breasts; taking two fingers and pushing it down between them.

He inhales sharply at how it feels, the soft swell of her breasts slippery with his come and she reaches up to undo the front of the corset; working the clasps open until her chest is bare.

Dropping down to his knees, he slides his hands inside the gap of stiff material, cupping her breasts before leaning in to greedily kiss her; his mouth a heavy, warm press against hers.

Exhaling a ragged breath into her mouth, he deepens the kiss while cradling her chest in his hands, slightly squeezing her, feeling the weight of her wet, sticky breasts in his palms and he moans; his lips catching on hers as he pulls away. 

“Maxwell, honey”, she pouts, looking down at the stained silk, “it was so pretty.”

“I don’t care”, he says, still breathing heavily at the sight of her glistening chest, a feral look in his eyes. Sliding his thumb over her nipple, he watches as the milky liquid coats the hardened bud before abruptly getting up and walking over to the bed, opening another box.

“Take that off”, he orders, motioning at her before pushing tissue paper to the side and lifting out another piece of silk; a chemise this time.

“I’ve got something else I want to see you in.”


	17. INTERLUDE: RANCH OWNER JACK "WHISKEY" DANIELS

“Jack!”, Gracie shrieks, laughing as he hauls her up in his arms, carrying her up the stairs.

“What’s wrong, sugar?”, he asks, his face frowning in mock concern. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“You know I am, honey”, she replies, leaning down to place a delicate kiss on his lush lower lip while wrapping her legs tighter around his firm torso. “I just wasn’t expecting to be carried up these stairs, is all. You must be eager tonight.”

“I am, sweetheart”, he smiles, palming her ass while he opens her door, walking them over the threshold. “I’m about to show you just how much I’ve missed you.” He winks.

Not being the madam’s favorite customer due to the trouble he sometimes gets into downstairs at the poker tables, Jack can also be intense, like a tornado that suddenly sweeps through town. Bursting through the door with his greetings, making good use of his hour with his hands, his mouth, his cock, (sometimes his lasso) and then before you know it; he is gone. 

Gracie is his favorite, he loves the way she laughs and how she plays with him and she loves him too; he is always so much fun, even if she is worn out by the time he leaves.

–

“Say it again, sweetheart!”, he shouts, his hips slamming into her ass as they kneel on the bed together; her knees and hands sinking into the soft bedding as he fucks her from behind. “I want them other men to hear you downstairs!”

Her arms giving out under the weight of his heavy thrusts, she drops down to her forearms and when she answers him, the reply is muffled by the blanket. He can’t have that, so he reaches down and grips her hair from behind, pulling her head up and away from the bedding so he can hear her better.

“What did you say, honey?”, he asks again, his hips never stopping. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I said fuck me, daddy!”, Gracie shouts hoarsely and he laughs, slapping her ass sharply with his broad palm.

“I want to hear it again”, he pants, letting go of her hair to wrap his fingers around her hips, pulling her back onto his cock over and over. “Say it.”

“Fuck m– oh god, Jack”, Gracie moans, dropping her head briefly down between her shoulders as her cunt clenches down on him. He swats her ass again and she tips her head up, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Fuck me harder, daddy; I want it harder.”

“Well all you had to do was ask, sugar!”, he smiles, pushing his hair back away from his brow. 

Pressing his hand between her shoulder blades, he pushes her facedown into the mattress while he keeps her hips high in the air and he slams into her; his thick cock hitting her deep at this angle. He puts his weight behind the thrusts, his own hips getting sore with how hard they are pounding against her ass and he suddenly stops, pulling out of her abruptly as she cries out, begging him to put it back in.

“Well now”, he teases, gently pulling on her shoulders until she is kneeling in front of him, her back pressed tight to his firm, heaving chest. Tucking his chin over her shoulder, she can feel his stiff, slick cock pressing against her ass as he nips at her ear while squeezing her. “Who’s the customer here, honey?”

“You are”, she pants, smiling at his teasing tone, sliding her hand up through his thick hair.

“Well then shouldn’t you be fucking me?”, he asks, letting her go so she can turn around to face him. “How come I’m doin’ all the work?”

Settling himself against the headboard, he watches as Gracie slowly crawls up the mattress, her face bright with a smile and a breathless giggle. He lets out a low groan when she nuzzles his cock; his hand resting on the back of her head as she licks a wide stripe up the underside of it before pressing a kiss to the tip. Trailing her lips up, she kisses his little pat of a belly, his hip, his side and kneeling between his legs, she braces herself on his shoulders as she straddles his lap, reaching down to line his cock up before slowly sinking down on it.

She loves the way his mouth hangs open, those slightly pursed lips under that moustache; the way his jaw always goes slack when she rides him.

“Is this how you want it, daddy?”, she asks sweetly, sinking down until their hips are fitted tightly together; the stretch of his thick length making her squirm on his lap.

“You know I do”, he replies with a ragged exhale, looking down to watch her pull off him before sliding back down.

She rolls her hips against his, leaning in to kiss his throat when he tips his head back in a groan and she sucks on the skin there, mouthing at the dip where his shoulder meets his neck before sinking her teeth into it.

“Damn, baby!”, he hisses, looking at her with a grin when she pulls away.

“What?”, she replies, dragging her hips back and forth, his cock sliding almost all the way out of her before she sinks back down to the base, “You looked good enough to eat.”

His face stretches into a lopsided grin as he grips the top of her arms, his eyes closing briefly with a groan as she works her hips faster. Dragging his palms down her arms, he rests them on her wrists and sits up with cinch, pulling them behind her back. Squeezing them tightly together just above her ass, he holds her down on his cock; keeping it inside and she can’t move; a soft whimper escaping her at the intense, full feeling.

“You better behave, honey”, he says lowly, his dark eyes watching hers. “You know that rope trick you showed me last time? That was real cute.”

Looking over at his lasso on her vanity, the coiled rope resting on the top of it, he waits until her eyes follow his line of sight before looking back at her.

“You keep it up and I’m gonna have to show you how a real knot is tied, girl.”


	18. DRABBLE: FRONTIERSMAN FRANCISCO MORALES

“Oh my god, Francisco”, Gracie moans, arching her hips into his mouth. She hears a muffled groan in response, the sound of it vibrating against her cunt and he wraps his hands around the top of her thighs, pulling her tight against his face.

Looking down the length of his body, she can see the mussed crown of his hair, his thick, curled locks between her thighs, the broad spread of his shoulders as they open her up wide for him; his firm backside flexing as he grinds his cock into the mattress, seeking relief while he eats her.

His favorite thing, ever since his first visit when she taught him just how she liked it, he always spends his hour just like this; his tongue buried in her wet heat.

“I’m – oh god – I’m gonna come, baby”, Gracie’s husky voice pleads, and Francisco’s tongue moves faster against her clit as he slides two fingers deeply into her, curling them in time with his licks.

He feels a hot rush of arousal wash over his mouth when she does and he pulls his fingers out to replace them with his tongue; licking into her deeply and dragging her slick up and over her clit, gliding his tongue over it until she begs him to stop.

Pulling his mouth away, he kisses the inside of her trembling thigh, his sparse beard catching on the soft skin and she whimpers, sagging into the mattress.

“Are you sure this is how you wanna spend the whole hour, honey?”, she pants, trying to catch her breath as little aftershocks jolt through her core.

“I wanna make you come one more time”, he replies, gently running the tip of his finger through her soaked folds. He’s already made her come twice; he likes it to be at least three.

“You can do another one for me; I know it”, he states quietly, pulling himself up just enough to drag his glistening lips over her soft belly, kissing her hip. His warm brown eyes gaze up at her and when she looks down and smiles, he mirrors it; his eyes crinkling pleasantly around the edges. He is waiting for her to answer before he starts again and she slowly nods, pushing her fingers through his soft hair.

“That’s my girl”, he murmurs, already bending down to his task. The first lick is a wide stripe from her entrance up and Gracie fists the cool sheets in one hand and grasps his hair in the other, a keening whine crawling out of her throat. She is so sensitive, so wet, so ready for him to just fuck her already, but she isn’t even sure she can handle it with how wrung out she is. She whimpers at the slow spreading warmth gathering in her core again, her stomach muscles already tensing with the way his mouth is moving.

“Jesus, baby”, she gasps as he presses his tongue deep inside, “I might just have to buy your second hour if you keep this up.”

He stops, looking up at her. “Are you serious? Would you really do that?”

She huffs a laugh at the hopeful look on his face; the eagerness displayed so openly. “You’ve made me come twice, Francisco and are about to make me come again. You can have whatever you want, baby.”

He grins, immediately diving back into her cunt and her laugh slides into a deep moan when he wraps his lips around her clit, slightly shaking his head to drag his lips over it. He sucks on it, hard and when she cries out, he reaches up to grab a palmful of her breast; his broad hand squeezing it tight while she settles her hand over his, rolling her hips against his mouth.

“Just like that, honey”, she moans when he circles her clit with the tip of his nose, his tongue licking, licking, licking. “Fuck; just like that.”

He needs to make her come again, needs to feel her cunt flood and her slick walls flutter around his tongue, needs to feel the way her thighs tense around his cheeks. It’s his favorite thing, being surrounded by her soft body and her sweet scent and he presses his hips into the mattress again; a damp spot underneath him as precome slowly leaks from the thick tip of his cock.

All of a sudden, she does; her thighs locking tight around his cheeks as she lets out a sob, her cunt flooding with slick and he opens his mouth wide over her, not wanting to miss any of it. He eats her like a man starved for it; probably is with his lonely life as a frontiersman and he doesn’t let up until she pulls her hips away from his mouth with a soft cry.

“Come up here”, she murmurs, skating her fingers over his shoulders as he presses one last kiss against her entrance: a goodbye kiss, until next time. “Come fuck me, honey. I know you want to.”

He crawls up her limp body, leaning down to kiss her hip, her chest, dragging his tongue over her nipple, drawing it into his mouth for a moment before continuing up; his lips eventually finding hers as he settles between her legs.

She holds him close, curling her hand around the back of his head as he kisses her and she softly moans into his mouth when he pushes his cock inside; the thick length gliding in easily with how wet she is.

He thrusts into her once, twice and he doesn’t stop kissing her, his mouth slanting over hers while his tongue works further magic inside her mouth this time. Pulling away, he kisses her cheek, her jaw, her ear before resting his face into the damp folds of her neck; breathing her in while he strokes inside of her.

He is one of her favorites, this soft feral man and she thinks about how she is definitely going to buy him that second hour; smiling at a heavy thrust of his cock filling her up pleasantly as he tells her how good she tasted, how much he loves to make her come, how much he loves fucking her wet cunt.  
Yes; a second hour for sure.


	19. THE KERCHIEF

It’s been over six weeks since you’ve last seen Din and the kid and when he walks in late one night, the kid slumped against his shoulder in slumber, it takes all you have not to run over to them. You know you aren’t supposed to show favor for any one customer, not openly on the floor like that, but it’s been so long - it’s rare, this long in between visits and you have been restless these last couple of weeks, waiting for them to come back.

When he walks up to you, he says nothing – his weary eyes taking in your face for a moment, a small smile under his mustache and you return it, one hand resting on the kids back, the other reaching up to cup his smooth cheek; he must have shaved before coming into town. He closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch and you lead him upstairs to your room.

Once inside, he lays the kid carefully down on the bed – his limp body immediately rolling deeper into the mattress, curling up in a tight ball – and when he turns to you, you launch yourself at him. It’s desperate the way you wrap your arms tight around his shoulders, fitting your face into his neck and you can feel the same from him, his arms crushing you against his sturdy frame with a small sigh into your hair as he rests his cheek against it.

Pressing your face into his collar, you inhale deeply, taking in his smell. His unique scent; something you tried to recall while he was away when you closed your eyes and really thought about it at night in your bed, but these last couple of weeks you found it fading, being replaced instead by the soft, clean smell of your pillowcase. A tightness banded across your chest in the dark, your heart beating fast at the thought of forgetting it.

“I was so worried”, you mumble into his neck, and his arms squeeze you tighter, his face pressed into your hair.

“I’m sorry, girl”, he murmurs, his lips seeking out your skin, resting against your temple. “I should have sent word or something. The job took longer than I thought.”

You are close to him in his embrace, but you need to be even closer, so you slide your arms underneath his jacket to pull him against you. The heat of his body leeching through the soft cotton of his shirt into your skin, you press a kiss to the dip below his ear, to the sharp line of his jaw, to the soft skin of his cheek before you find his lips, tipping your head up to find his mouth. He cups your face, pulling it into his and when he kisses you, you let your lips linger together, your soft breath exhaling into his mouth as he hums into it, his lips moving gently against yours. 

“I thought”, you whisper against his mouth, kissing him again, “that something”, another kiss, “had happened to you and I –”

He cuts you off, deepening the kiss. Sweeping his tongue through your mouth, you give up trying to say anything and you just kiss him, tugging at the soft material of his shirt tight over his back. He is leaning into you, his body crowding yours and you feel like you can’t get enough of him; can never get enough of the way his mouth feels against yours, his hands now clutching the back of your robe, the silk sliding under his rough palms as he cups your backside, pulling your hips tight against his.

He is kissing you breathless, slaking his thirst and he feels your body respond under his touch, each part awakening under his hands as they roam over the slippery silk and he palms your breast in his hand, a soft grunt into your mouth at the weight of it sliding under your robe and –

“I’m hungry.”

The both of you stop at the small voice, your bodies freezing for a moment before Din turns towards the bed and the Kid is awake, blurrily sitting up and rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. His face is so sweet, puffy with sleep and you walk over to sit on the bed with him, pulling him onto your lap.

“I missed you”, you say softly, and he leans into your shoulder, resting his head against it. Din watches the two of you sit together, your hand softly stroking the mop of curls on the kid’s head and he is struck by the clarity of the image in his head: the two of you like that, on a bed of your own, in a house of your own. 

His chest swells with the feeling, almost choking him with how strong the want is. Always telling himself that he has to continue this way of life to make money, to make sure you’re safe while he is away for these long weeks at a time; right now he wants nothing more than to freeze this moment, to find a new way to live that includes you and the kid with him, every night.

These type of thoughts are what he thinks about in his tent at night when he is missing you, but he always seems to come to the same conclusion: he is doing the best for everyone by keeping it the way it is. His tired mind slipping into second guessing himself now, he is pulled out of his own head when you speak to him.

“I can take him down to Gracie”, you say, looking up at him, getting ready to stand up with the kid. “She can give him some dinner and then put him into bed. Unless you want her –?”

“No”, he shakes his head, reaching for the kid. “I don’t, not tonight. But I can bring him down there – I’ll grab something to eat myself while you get the bath ready.”

Nodding your head, you brush a curl back to press a kiss to the kid’s forehead, telling him goodnight and he is already sliding back into sleep, his eyes closing as he leans into your warmth before Din pulls him from your lap, hauling him up into his arms.

–

Dinner eaten, the bath done, the two of you lay in bed together relishing the company and touch of the other. Lying on your back, Din lays between your legs, his heavy body draped on yours with his head resting on your chest and when you talk, he rests his chin on your torso, his finger softly skating a circle around the peak of your breast. He listens to you tell him what he’s missed while he’s been gone – a new school being built on the edge of the square, Jack Daniels teaching Gracie how to shoot a gun (Jesus Christ, Din mutters, his eyebrows raised in slight worry), a fight that broke out in the inn one night.

“Sounds like it’s been busy”, he says, sliding up to kiss your nipple, the one he has been stroking with his thumb while he listened. “I – what’s this?”

Finding a piece of cloth under the pillow, he slides it out to see what it is: a kerchief.

“Oh – you weren’t supposed to see that yet.” You try to pull it from his hand, but he holds it tight.

“Is it for me?”, he asks, his eyes beginning to shine with a smile.

“It was supposed to be a surprise”, you gently scold, watching as he turns the cloth over in his hands, admiring it. “I’ve been sleeping with it under my pillow. I thought you might like something that smelled like me. Something to wear…” and you stop talking with the way he is looking at you; his warm, brown eyes softening in their gaze, filled with adoration.

“I know you gave your other one to the kid, so I thought you might like a replacement.”

He says nothing, leaning in to kiss you and while his lips press against yours, you try to pull the piece of fabric from his hand. He doesn’t want to let go of it, so he gently tugs back and you smile against his mouth; your hands momentarily wrestling.

“You said it was for me”, he grins, still trying to kiss you and you laugh, turning your head away to focus on the kerchief.

“Yes, but not yet. You have to wait until tomorrow.”

“What if I don’t want to wait until then, girl?”, he smiles. “What if I want to wear it right now?”

Your eyebrows raise in teasing surprise. “You? Wearing nothing but a kerchief around your neck?” You make a show of glancing down at his bare chest, his nude body. “I would like to see it.”

He laughs, winking at you and he lets you take the piece of fabric from his hand, watching as you drape it over your chest. Your soft skin, the swell of your breast, your nipple hidden just under the dark green fabric and he slowly licks his lips, dragging his eyes up to yours.

“What if I want you to wear it?”, he says lowly, his eyes fixed on yours to gauge your response. When you shyly smile at him, he continues. “What if I want to cover your eyes with it? Would you let me?”

“What are you going to do to me after you cover my eyes?”, you ask, picking the kerchief up and revealing your breast to him. His dark eyes flick down to it for a moment before going back to your face. Pulling himself even higher on the mattress, he shifts to lie between your legs, gently lowering his body on top of yours. His lips are delicate against your collarbone, along the side of your neck and you turn to catch his ear with your lips before he whispers in yours.

“Whatever I fucking want, girl.”

He feels your sharp inhale at his words, and he knows he has you right where he wants you, right where he has been dreaming about you these past weeks.

“I just wanna show you how much I like it”, he says, pulling back to look at you. Reaching his hand up, he traces the gentle swell of your cheekbone, the sharp bridge of your nose, the smooth skin under your eyebrow.

“First I’m gonna make you wear it while I kiss you for my present.” His fingers drift down to skim over your lips and when you purse yours to press them against the pads of his fingertips, he smirks. “Not there”, he says, his broad hand traveling down over your chest, around your hip, between your legs. He feels the hitch in your breath as he gently parts you, dipping the tip of his finger inside your cunt. “Here.”

“Then I’m gonna make you wear it while I fuck your mouth”, he continues, watching your head tip back into your pillow with a sigh as his fingers move against you, “so I can think about that while I wear it; that sweet mouth I love so much filled with my cock; my come.”

“Do it”, you gasp when his fingers press inside of you, stroking along your walls. His hand is between your bodies and he uses the weight of his hips to grind it against you, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit as he stretches you around his fingers. He stays here for a moment, his forehead dropping into the pillow, his mouth open over your shoulder as he fucks you with his hand, his hips flexing into yours once, twice.

Sliding his fingers out, he sits up and pulls you up with him, carefully kneeling between your knees while he folds the kerchief into a strip, leaning forward to tie it around your eyes. Satisfied that you can’t see anything, he guides you back onto the bed and you wait. You try to focus on your other senses: the heat of his thighs resting between yours, the way the mattress dips and shifts as he settles between your legs, the low, appreciative groan you hear when he mouths your hip; the hot, wet glide of his tongue against your skin.

You know he is going to do it, but the blindfold only serves to make it more intense when he puts his mouth on you. Your hands immediately reach out for his head and you push your fingers through the thick, damp locks, pulling him closer to you. He is hungry, has been starved for weeks thinking about you spread for him like this and you can feel it in the way his mouth is wide open, the way his tongue immediately delves into you.

“I missed this so much, girl”, he murmurs, wrapping his hands around the top of your thighs to pull you closer. “I dreamed about it in my tent at night, this sweet cunt I love so much.”

You arch into his mouth, spreading your legs wider and he grunts into your wet folds, his shoulders tight against the back of your thighs trying to get closer.

“I thought about it too”, you moan, rolling your hips against his face, feeling his tongue slide inside of you, thrusting in and out. “I thought about your mouth on me, the way you make me come like this, the way you like it.”

“I do, girl.” His voice is a soft strain, the words said quickly before he puts his mouth back, dragging the bridge of his nose over your clit. “Oh god, I do. You taste so sweet – my sweet girl with her sweet cunt.”

You want him to keep talking, his husky voice even richer in your ears without being able to see anything, but you also need him to keep going, his mouth is sweeping you away with how good it feels after not seeing him for so long. You focus on what you imagine him to look like right now: a thick, dark mop of hair between your thighs, those tanned, broad hands gripping you tightly, the dip of his shoulders between your knees. You can feel the bed moving by your feet and you think you know what he is doing, but you rest your foot on the swell of his ass to make sure; a low moan escaping when you confirm your line of thought. He is grinding his hips into the bedding, seeking relief for his cock while he eats you and you picture how it must look; his firm backside flexing with the motion.

Something about that thought: the way you can see it in your mind, can feel it beneath the arch of your foot, it pulls you up fast and Din can feel your thighs start to tremble around his cheeks. Removing your hands from his hair, you drop them limply into the bedding, fisting the cool sheet as you grind your hips into his face and he doesn’t stop – his tongue gliding against your clit over and over until taking it into his mouth, sucking on it.

“Din!”, you cry out hoarsely and he shifts up higher on the bed, his shoulders spreading you wider as he clasps his hands together over your belly, his strong forearms cinching you tight in place. He wishes he could see your face right now, your mouth wide open in a pant as you come for him but he doesn’t want to stop with the way you are tensing beneath him, your cunt flooding into his mouth.

He scoops it all up with his tongue, lapping into you to not miss one drop of your slick and he groans into your core when you keep rolling your hips against his mouth. He is impossibly hard, his cock leaking, the soft bedding damp under his hips but he keeps going until you reach down and push him away with a tired whimper.

He crawls up your body, the heft of him dragging along the inside of your thigh, skimming the sensitive folds between your legs and you are still wrung out from coming, but you blindly reach out for him, trying to sit up.

“No”, he says softly, “lay down.”

He can see the knit of confusion in your brow over the kerchief. “I thought you wanted me to –”

“I do”, he answers, leaning down to lick at your nipple, drawing it into his mouth briefly. “But I want you to stay like this.”

You are still confused, but you lay back down on the pillow and he kisses his way across your chest, his legs straddling your hips. You let your hands roam, feeling his hot flesh under your palms and you try to memorize the feeling of it, closing your eyes even though you are still wearing the blindfold.

“Are you ready, girl?”, he asks, and you nod your head yes, even though you aren’t quite sure what you are saying yes to. You feel him scoot higher on the bed, until his knees are tight under your arms and he gently settles the weight of his seat on your chest. Remembering him doing something similar in the tent, you think he is going to fuck your breasts like this until you remember he said he wanted your mouth.

You hear the bed frame as he grabs it above your head and feel the heat rolling off his skin when he leans his body forward to rest the thick tip of his cock against your lips. Opening immediately for him, your tongue swipes quickly over the underside of it before curling your hands around his hips, sliding them back to grasp his ass to pull him closer to your mouth.

Letting the head of him rest on the flat of your tongue for a moment, your mouth pools with saliva before he guides himself deeper inside, the bed creaking with how tightly he is gripping the frame. You wish you could see him right now because you can hear him: the choked hitch in his breath when you suck on the tip of him, the soft groan, the heavy breathing as he slides in. One hand on the headboard, the other cradling your head, he lifts you closer to him as he pushes in deeper, down to the base, resting heavy on your tongue.

Your eyes water, the blindfold damp with your tears at how he deep he is, the tip of his cock against the back of your throat and he sounds wrecked when you swallow around it, sliding your tongue along the thick shaft.

“Fuck”, he gasps, pulling out just enough for you to take a deep breath before pushing in again, “You feel so fucking good, girl – your fuckingmouth; I –” and his words slide into a deep moan when you rest your elbows on his thighs and your hands flat on his lower back, pulling him towards you while you start to fuck him with your mouth.

It’s overwhelming, his weight resting heavy on you, his body surrounding your face, his cock deep inside of your mouth, but you love the way you are making him feel, you only ever want to make him feel good just like he does for you. You waited so long to be enveloped in his presence and his position right now is doing just that, filling your senses with him. You only wish you could see him right now above you, the sparse dark trail of hair that leads to his cock, his taut belly, his broad chest but most of all you want to see his face – the way his jaw hangs open, his mouth slightly agape under that mustache, those dark, beautiful eyes you love watching you.

He can’t last long, the way he is swelling thicker inside your mouth as you suck on him hard and when he looks down to see the way your lips are stretched tight around him, you taste a salty spurt of precome drip onto your tongue. Swallowing it, you work him faster and he leans forward to rest both hands on the bedframe, gently thrusting into your mouth as you rest your head against your pillow.

“I’m gonna come, girl”, he warns, the husky edge of his voice deepened with slight desperation and you slide your hands up higher, resting them on his sides. You can feel the way he tenses under your palms and he is panting above you with every thrust into your mouth, soft grunts with every push in and you hollow your cheeks around the length of him, mirroring his earlier motions on you: your tongue gliding rapidly along the underside of him before sucking, your hands holding him tight in place.

He comes with a loud groan, suddenly reaching down to grip your hair tight in his fist before spilling along the back of your tongue, into your throat. It floods your mouth, and you swallow around him as he grinds his hips into your face, giving you more. When he feels you slightly gag on him, he pulls his hips back to slide out of your mouth and he moans again at how swollen your lips look, how wet your mouth is, a small milky puddle of his come resting on your bottom lip, dripping down onto your chin.

Sliding back down your body, he kisses you, breathing heavily into your mouth while he tastes himself in it and you wind your fingers up through his hair, deepening it. Your mouths glide wetly together, the sharp tang of him spreading over your tongues and he loves tasting you like this, loves thinking about this mouth that he loves filled with him.

Stretching his body alongside yours, he reaches up to push the blindfold up and off and laughs breathlessly at the way you blink at the dim light of the room. He can see your dark eyelashes wet with tears and he pulls your head close, kissing your eyes one at a time.

“You did so good for me”, he tells you, pulling you to him and roll onto your side, curling into his heat. He tucks you almost under his chest, his arm resting heavily across your side, your face pressed into his neck, your leg pressed between his and this is how you fall asleep – deeply inhaling his scent, breathing it in, filling your lungs and head with it to better remember it by when he leaves again.

–

“This one is even harder than the last one”, you say to the kid, looking at him while you tuck a small book into his leather satchel. “I’m impressed with how fast you are learning. Pretty soon I’m gonna have to get you one of those giant dictionaries”, you tease, buckling the book into the bag. “Your horse will be mad it’ll be so big and heavy.”

He laughs at the thought and you press a kiss to your fingertips before reaching up and pressing it into his soft cheek. Telling him to be good, to listen to his papa and to remember that you will thinking about him while he is gone, you say goodbye to him and turn to Din.

“And you”, your voice drops an octave as you rest your hand on his thigh, the muscle straining against his tight pants as he sits on his horse, “I’ll be thinking about you too.”

He looks down at you, his gaze soft with affection and you admire the dark green fabric tucked under his chin, the kerchief tied neatly around his neck. His face is shadowed by the brim of his hat and he smiles before lifting it off his head so he can lean down to kiss you. Standing on your toes, you stretch as tall as you can and he laughs into the kiss, his lips catching against yours for a moment before pulling away.

“I’m gonna be thinking about you for sure”, he says with a wink, placing his hat back on his head and holding the reins of the horse loose in his hands. “Thinking about this kerchief. About that wet mouth of yours, about how it looked fill –” and he jumps in the saddle when you swiftly glide your hand up his thigh, pinching him high on the inside of it. Laughing, he pulls your hand away from his leg, briefly bending down to kiss your knuckles.

“I love you, girl”, he says lowly, his face turning serious and you repeat it back, pressing a kiss to his thigh, resting your forehead against it for a moment before stepping back so they can leave.

On their way out of town, Din guides their horses down the street, watching as kids walk along the side of the road in small groups; two here, three there. Chattering, swinging their lunch pails and their books in their hands, they are all headed toward the new school that you told him about last night.

He looks at the kid, watching his small face stare the children with curiosity, with longing. The kid’s small body rolling smoothly in the saddle as he studies them, Din frowns and shifts his gaze to the new schoolhouse as they pass it, his jaw shifting in thought.


	20. THE MARK

Saddled up to the bar, Din is preoccupied with making sure the kid is eating everything on his plate when the men walk in. He hears them, his ear always listening to his surroundings, but he pays them no mind; their low tones getting lost in the loud chatter of the room. He is just pushing some vegetables towards the kid when the men take a seat next to him, ordering their drinks from the barkeep.

“Gracie!”, one of them calls as they see her walk towards them with a smile. “You gonna keep me company tonight?”

“I’m all booked up, honey.” Standing behind Din, she places her hand on his back and pouts, reaching out to adjust the man’s kerchief. “Sorry, baby.”

“What about your friend – is she around?” he asks, and Gracie feels Din stiffen under her palm.

Turning towards his friend, the man looks at him knowingly. “I sure did have some fun with her sweet mouth last time”, he says with a laugh.

A look of alarm briefly passes over Gracie’s face and when she feels Din turning in his seat, she quickly steps between the stools, blocking the man from him.

“She’s busy tonight too”, Gracie replies sweetly, scanning the room for another girl. “Maybe –”

“Oh, come on, now – both of you are booked? By who?” His face dropping into a stern frown, the man grabs Gracie’s wrist, lightly squeezing it in his grip.

“By me.” Din’s voice is low and clipped from behind Gracie’s back and he reaches out to gently guide her to the side, revealing his pistol pointed directly at the man. He drops Gracie’s wrist in shock and she immediately walks over to the kid, picking him up off the stool.

“You got both of them?” the man sneers in disbelief, his eyes flicking from Din’s face down to his pistol and back again. “Doesn’t seem fair to me.”

Din says nothing, his gun still aimed on the man, his cold eyes locked on him.

“Tell you what”, the man continues, shifting slightly in his seat. “How about you get Gracie and I get her friend.” A slow smile spreads on his face at the memory of the last time he was in. “I’ve been looking forward to fucking that girl all week. She likes it on the rougher –”

The man stops at the sound of the hammer of Din’s pistol being cocked back, his thumb fluid with the motion. The room is silent, the patrons watching the showdown at the bar and the man nervously laughs, his friend quiet behind him.

“You really wanna do this?”, he asks with raised eyebrows, his hand slowly drifting down to his side, where his own pistol is. “You willing to die for some whore?”

Din’s fingers flex on the grip of his weapon. “Yep.”

The man stares at him for a moment, assessing the situation and he suddenly raises his hands, motioning defeat.

“Well, I’m not”, he replies, slowly sliding off his stool. “Come on.” Jerking his head at his friend, he motions at him to follow. “Let’s get out of here.”

The patrons in the inn watch as they leave; Din turning in his stool to make sure they are fully gone before holstering his weapon.

“I’m gonna go upstairs, Gracie – keep the kid tonight, okay?”

She nods quickly, the kid still clinging tightly to her and she places him back on the stool as she watches Din climb the stairs, disappearing into your room. 

\--

Oblivious to what just happened downstairs, you can feel the tension radiating off Din’s body as you help him undress and you wonder if something happened before he got here. He hasn’t been this wound since your first night, when he confronted a man at the brothel for being too rough with a girl and you say nothing, waiting for him to talk.

Quickly peeking up at his face, you focus on helping him get undressed, starting with his belt. Carefully hanging the heavy strip of leather over your chair, the pistols still resting in their holsters, you hold your hand out for his vest and he gives it to you, watching as you place it next to his belt. 

You start on his shirt next, your fingers working open the small, pearly buttons and his face is still in a far off frown, his jaw tight. Tugging his shirt from his pants, he holds his wrists up in front of you and you undo the buttons there before sliding your hands into the open gap of his collar. Your palms resting on his warm, bare chest for a moment, he finally focuses on you for the first time since he’s walked in the room.

“Hey, girl.” You shiver pleasantly at the sound of his voice; at the way his calloused thumb traces your cheekbone.

“Hello”, you reply with a shy smile, sliding his shirt off his shoulders. Draping that over your chair as well, you start on the button of his pants, but he stops you, pulling you in for a kiss.

His mouth is urgent, his lips immediately opening yours and you can tell he is riled up about something when he turns you towards the bed, his mouth never leaving yours. Slowly walking you backwards, he palms your breast over the silk and squeezes it a little rougher than usual before dropping his hand down to tug at the sash of your robe.

“Din—“, you gently protest, pulling away from the kiss. “Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

You want to get him in the bath, where you can soothe him with your words, your hands, the press of your body against his, but he doesn’t seem to want to get in the steaming tub – he wants you now, just like this, his hands gripping you with impatience.

“Maybe I don’t wanna get cleaned up”, he says lowly, his face close to yours. “Maybe I wanna fuck you first.”

“You can if you want”, you reply smoothly, bracing yourself on his chest to push against his body, “but I want you in the tub.” Skating your hand down over his belly, you slip it under the waistband of his pants and reach inside to find his cock, already hard.

“I’ve missed you”, you murmur, winding your fingers around him, swiping the pads of your fingers over the thick tip. “I’ve missed this.”

He says nothing, his eyes sliding shut with a deep sigh and you keep going, ever so gently pushing him back towards the tub.

“I’ve missed you in that tub”, you soothe, one hand working his cock, the other tugging on the buttons of his pants, slowly working them open. Looking up at him, you slip your hand around the inside of the band to push them down lower on his hips. “Was thinking maybe you could fuck me in that tub – if you don’t wanna wait.”

His gaze is hungry and dark when he opens his eyes and you can tell he likes the thought of that; the thought of that hot, steaming water surrounding him while your slippery body slides against his, your slick cunt squeezing him tight until his whole body is enveloped in your warmth.

He pulls away from you and you take your hand out of his pants, kneeling on the floor to help him slide his boots and socks off. Pushing his pants down, his movements are rushed, and you mirror them, tossing them to the side after he steps out of them. Stepping closer, he crowds you on the floor and you reach up to place your hands on his bare thighs.

“Do you want me here?”, you ask innocently, poking your tongue out to drag it along your lower lip, “Or in the bath?”

You can tell he is thinking about it, really thinking the way he is studying your mouth right now, but he holds his hand out and pulls you up off the floor.

“I think I wanna fill your mouth”, he tells you, reaching up to place his fingers over your lips, “but first let’s get in the tub.”

He climbs in, settling his body in the steaming water and you watch as he slips under the surface. Peering over the edge of the tub, you admire the way he looks; his long, lean limbs, his broad shoulders, his solid torso, his small, soft belly sprinkled with sparse, dark hair leading to his cock. He looks so peaceful under the water, more than he does in person tonight and sliding your robe off, you wait for him to sit back up. The water churning as he scrubs at his hair under the surface, his golden skin waving under the ripples, he finally pops up, swiping his broad hand over his face to slick the water away.

Bracing yourself on the tub to climb in, his hand stills you.

“What’s that, girl?”, he asks, his eyes intently focused on a spot on your hip and you look down: a mark, dark and mottled against your flesh; the clear imprint of teeth along the outside.

“Oh”, you frown, twisting slightly to get a better look at it, “I don’t know. Someone must have gotten a little carried away.”

The mark means nothing to you, just something that happens sometimes in your line of work, but you can tell from the way he is sitting rigid in the tub right now that it means something to him. The look on his face is one you’ve never seen before, but you imagine his bounties maybe have, or any other person who dares cross him. It’s a cold look, one that makes your heart race and your belly flutter with nerves and you gently lift his hand from your hip before slowly climbing into the tub. 

Settling on top of his thighs, you wind your arm around his neck, your other hand gently caressing his jaw.

“Hey”, you say softly, trying to penetrate his dark gaze with your own softer one, “it’s fine. I didn’t even notice it. I don’t even remember it happening.”

Leaning in to kiss him, you try to keep your mouth slow and steady, your lips molding around his to encourage him to open up to you. Cupping his face, you keep going and he is hesitant at first, finally letting you slip your tongue inside to slide against his.

Reaching up behind you, his broad hand grasps the nape of your neck and he pulls you tighter against him when he slants his mouth over yours to deepen the kiss, licking into you with a groan and you are caught off guard by the sudden intensity of it, the sudden need pouring out of him. His other hand seeks the mark out under the water, this thumb rubbing against it and you pull it away from the spot, placing it on your breast. 

Sliding his hand up the back of your head, he grips your hair tightly in his fist and devours your mouth while you cling to him, your hands trying to hold him steady. His hand slides back into the water to find the mark again and the way his thumb strokes over the spot, it’s like he’s trying to rub it off your skin, trying to wash it off like you wash the dirt off of him and his kisses get rougher, his mouth pushing into yours with a bruising force.

He can’t stop – like he is torturing himself touching it, seeking out this reminder of what you do and who you are with while he is away and when his thumb digs into the spot, your hip jerks away from his grip. It’s this movement that stops him; his mouth breaking away from yours, the two of you heavily panting. You can feel how agitated his limbs are under your body when he finally speaks.

“I want you to wash me.” He is barely in control of his voice right now, keeping it low while he drags his eyes up from the surface of the water to meet yours. “And then I wanna play a game.” 

\--

You wince at the raw burn of the rope against your skin, the length of it tied tight around your wrists, the other end bound to the bedframe and you whimper at Din’s pace; his hips snapping into yours harshly, his strokes fast and deep.

“What’s that, girl?”, he pants, pinching your face to hold your gaze on him.

“I –“, you start, your voice sliding into a deep moan at the way he feels inside you right now, your body making the slow ascent into another peak; the second just at the edges of fading. “I’m gonna come again.”

He has been unrelenting from the beginning of the game and your body is sore and exhausted; the inside of your thighs aching from his hips pounding into you, your shoulders tight with how long your arms have been bound, your throat raw from use. Showing no signs of stopping any time soon, he has made you come with his fingers and his mouth and you are waiting for him to tire himself out. Trying to soothe him with your words and your body, it’s hard when you are bound like this, unable to touch him.

Swiftly pulling out of you, he kneels between your legs, his thighs spreading them wider and strokes himself quickly before coming on your stomach. The hot liquid splashing onto your skin, he smears it over the mark, his fingers pressing it into the spot like a balm; more for himself than you and you think this is the end, but his hand drifts down between your legs, his slick fingers gliding over your clit.

“Please”, you beg, your eyes sliding shut as he works you again with his hand and he smiles, the stretch of it not quite meeting his eyes.

“This is just a game, girl”, he taunts, spreading his legs to push yours open further. “I thought you liked to play games.”

Before you can protest, he abruptly pulls his hand away and drags you back down the bed with a strong tug until the ropes are taut again, dropping to his elbows between your legs. His mouth is hot against your skin when he sucks on your hip, licking at the sweat damp skin, before sharply biting your skin.

Arching off the bed with a moan, you try to scoot away from him but he digs his fingers painfully into your hips and holds you tight before sucking another deep mark into your thigh; the sharp clip of his teeth making you cry out.

Spreading you wide with his shoulders, you press your head back into the pillow, your heavy pants sliding into a moan when he dives into your cunt; his nose dragging against your clit as his tongue licks inside of you and you plead with him again over the sound of his satisfied groans.

“Please, Din. You know you can’t leave any marks.”

Looking up from your cunt, the lower half of his face shiny with your slick, he licks his lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth while giving you a stern look.

“Do you think I fucking care, girl?”

Climbing up your body, the gusts of his heavy exhales fan over your skin as he presses kisses along your torso, giving you a chance to catch your breath. One over the thin skin over your ribs, the plump swell of your breast, over the rapid pace of your heart. When he is settled on top of you, he reaches up to massage your wrists through the ropes and his mouth finally finds yours, kissing you deeply. You can feel the drag of his cock against the inside of your thigh as he opens your tired mouth with his and he is already hard again, already reaching down to line himself up. Loosely winding your legs around his hips, you anticipate the push inside.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me”, he whispers hot in your ear as he slides in, watching the way your jaw goes slack. “You were made for me, girl – just for me.”

Your eyes close as you listen to his praise, your muscles relaxing into the gentle touch of his rough hand smoothing over your side.

“I just want everyone to know it, that’s all.”

His hand is back on your hip, holding you still as hot puffs of breath wash over the damp folds of your neck, as soft grunts fill your ear as he thrusts inside of you and you swallow thickly before speaking.

“Untie me”, you softly beg, and his hips stop, his cock still thick and heavy inside you with a stretch when he reaches above your head, working the knot out with one hand. You squirm under him, your body trying to adjust to the full pressure as he eases the rope off your wrists, and you let out a soft sound of discomfort at the soreness in your shoulders as you lower your arms to wind them around his neck.

Sliding your hand up through his hair, you pull him down to you, your lips seeking out his throat and you can feel his thrumming pulse beat under your lips as you rest them on the skin there. Kissing him lightly, you open your mouth wider and lick the salty skin before drawing it into your mouth. A delicate suck at first, you rest your teeth on the pebbled flesh when you suck harder and you can feel as well as hear the grunt he makes at the sensation.

“Harder, girl”, he whispers, dropping his head down to rest his cheek against your hair and when you do it harder, he lets out a long, drawn out moan at the sensation; his hips rocking forward into yours.

“Do it again”, he gasps when you pull away from him and you do, this time resting your mouth over the firm muscle of his shoulder. Biting down, your teeth pressing into his flesh as he strokes inside of you and you lave your tongue over the small indents before pressing a kiss to the spot.

Using the little energy you have left, you push against his heavy body, rolling him onto his back and you straddle his hips, draping yourself over his chest. You want to cover him in you, make sure that he can feel every inch of your skin and when you feel his arms immediately circle you and hold you close, you know he wants it too.

Rolling your hips against his, you reach to brush the hair back away from his face, the locks damp from the bath and with sweat and you look him directly in the eyes as you talk, your voice low and soothing.

“That mark meant nothing to me”, you tell him as you rock against him, “But you? You mean everything.”

His pleading eyes search yours, the depths of the deep brown endless as he looks back at you and when his arms tighten, you fit your face into his neck, curling your arms around his head. Your lips brush against his ear as you whisper into it, telling him that they get a piece of you but he gets the whole thing, that you think about him all the time, you wonder what he is doing every second of the day and when he plants his feet on the bed, pushing his hips up into yours with a groan, you keep talking.

“Come inside me”, you beg breathlessly, your hips frantically dragging forward and back, forward and back. “I want you to fuck it into me deep.” Speaking louder, trying to make him hear you over his deep groan, “I belong to you; fill me up, fill me up with your cock and your come and –”

His hands grip your hips tight when he does it, his head pressing back into the pillow with choked breath and you curl your fingers into his hair, pulling on the strands as you continue to roll your hips, seeking out your own release. You find it quickly, with the way you grind your hips against his, the way his cock is a slick, full drag inside.

“I wanna sleep like this, girl”, he murmurs, his muscles finally relaxing, the tension slowly draining from his body as he holds you close. One hand stroking between your shoulder blades, the other arm a band across your lower back, pressing you tight to him, he turns his face to you, catching your lips in a kiss.

The first true soft one of the night, you savor the way his mouth moves against yours, the sweet puffs of air against your mouth as settles his breathing and you nod, your lips a delicate press into his own.

Holding you close, he shifts slightly onto his side, just enough to keep your leg hooked over his hip, his cock still buried in your warmth as you curl into the warm space between his body and mattress. Flexing your hips into his, you force him deeper and he drapes his heavy arm over your side, nuzzling his face into the dip of your shoulder. The tip of his nose drags along the line of your collarbone, his mouth warm and delicate on your skin there. Listening to his heavy, comforting breathing, you fall asleep with your face tucked against his shoulder. 

He stays awake long into the night, his hands softly skimming over your body while he thinks. It bothers him more and more to think about you here, away from him. He knows he can’t take you with – a three-person family hunting bounties is a ridiculous notion – but he knows he isn’t going to be able to stand the thought of you with other customers for much longer, like that man downstairs. The thought of you with him makes him sick, makes his stomach churn with disgust and with rage and he knows this is your job, but he doesn’t want it to be your job anymore.

His fingers settling on the mark again, he traces the outline of it and as he succumbs to sleep himself, he tries to work out how that might be possible.

\--

“Wake up, girl.”

His hushed voice quiet in the room, you smell the strong scent of camphor first before you feel the gentle press of his touch, his fingers oily and slick against your skin. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he glances up as you open your eyes to watch him rub the ointment into the marks he left behind, before dropping his focus back to his task with a soft, intent look on his face.

“The shopkeeper isn’t very happy with me”, he says, his thumb gently digging into a spot on your thigh. “I guess he isn’t used to opening this early.”

You smile sleepily at the image of Din, pounding on the door of the general store until someone answers, the way he would demand to be served no matter if they were open for business or not. You wonder how long he has been awake, or if he ever even slept – you felt him in the night, his hand roaming over your skin while you faded in and out.

“It’s pretty early for him”, you reply, draping your leg over his lap as he dips his fingers into the pot, collecting more balm. “It’s pretty early for you too.”

He looks at you, a small smile on his face, his hair a curled wave over his forehead and he leans down to kiss you. His lips fit neatly against yours, slightly catching when they pull away to kiss you once, twice. Cupping his face in your hands, you pull him closer and open your mouth to his for a moment before he breaks it with a soft hum.

“I have some things to do before we leave”, he says, gliding his hand over the dip of your shoulder. The muscles there are sore, but the firm press of his fingers massaging the ointment into them soothes and loosens them. “I have to stop at the sheriff’s office – he wasn’t in there yesterday to pay me. I dropped the bounty with a deputy after waiting twenty minutes for that man to show up, but he never did.”

Placing your foot on the inside of his thigh, you crook your leg at the knee and open your thighs wider, giving him easier access to the soft skin there. “They could probably use some help at the jail – with the town growing, it seems like it’s always busy there. Though maybe if the sheriff was actually at work and not here with Gracie….”

His face studying you intently while you spoke, it slides into a smile at the mention of her name.

“That’s where he was last night when I came in – at the poker table with her.” His jaw clenching momentarily with irritation, he reluctantly smiles, his fingers dipping into the pot again. “She was a winning streak, taking that man for as much money as she could.”

You laugh softly and he joins you, peeking up at you as he works the balm into the crease of your hip. His face turning serious, he looks at the mark one last time and when he bends down to kiss it, you rest your hand on his head, carding your fingers through his hair. He kisses the spot once, twice, his tongue tracing the edges of it before licking a wide stripe over it and you know he is erasing it with his mouth, rewriting the memory of it with his own touch.

Giving it one last kiss, he pulls back and dabs the cool balm onto the spot, gently rubbing it into the skin there. Satisfied he’s gotten everything; he seals the jar and places it on the bed.

“Let me come down and see you out.” You reach to draw your blankets back, but he stills your hands, stretching out next to you on the bed in his clothes. Propped up on his elbow, you turn to him and dip your finger under his collar, peeling back the fabric to look at your own mark, the one you made on his throat. There is another one hidden under his shirt, along his shoulder and you ask him if he wants you to rub some of the balm into them, but he shakes his head.

“I want them to stay there as long as possible”, he softly replies, leaning in to kiss your cheek. His nose fits into the side of yours, the strong bridge of it sliding across your skin as he settles his hand on your neck, pulling you close. His eyes closed as he inhales your scent, his lips seeking out the line of your jaw, your chin. He wants to prolong this moment of leaving, wants to imprint the way you feel against his face right now just like the way you imprinted your mark onto him, but he still has so many things to do yet: wake the kid, pack their food, saddle the horses, visit the sheriff, get on the road.

“You don’t need to see us out, girl”, he says, kissing you gently. “You should get some sleep.”

“Can you send him up to me?”, you ask, referring to the kid. “I wanna say goodbye.”

His warm brown eyes look at you, taking in your features. He loves the way you look right now; your face still puffy with sleep, your hair mussed, the soft smile you always have for him in the morning and he thinks this might be his favorite version of you: morning you; the one that wakes up with him, always so soft and sweet.

“Sure”, he says with a smile, kissing you one last time. His lips press gently against yours, his mustache tickling you. “He talks about you all the time – I know he’ll wanna say goodbye too.”


	21. THE EXPLORATION

He almost never gets enough sleep: always a light doze on the trail, worried about the kid, keeping an ear out for trouble. Quick naps here, a rest in the saddle as they travel, maybe an hour or two of solid sleep in his tent at night – your room is the only place he can really relax, really let his guard down and deeply rest.

With other women, the ones he saw before you, he would wear himself out – using their bodies and his own until he fell into an exhausted sleep, dropping himself into the middle of the bed so they would adjust themselves around him but with you, he seeks you out, his warm body always shifting to surround yours, always curling into your heat.

You want to stay awake every second of this night, to savor the small amount of time you have with him until he leaves again and sometimes he stays awake with you, but most of the time you encourage him to get some rest. 

Tonight is one of those nights – where he loved you with his words, his hands, his mouth, his cock, his whole body – and then he stayed awake with you as long as he could manage: to talk to you, to skim his hands over your skin while you curled yours through his hair, to catch up on everything he’s missed while he was away.

“Tell me everything”, he said, his head resting on your chest as he laid between your legs and you did; your soothing voice filling his ears, the vibration of it filling his head as he rested it flat against your skin. Occasionally turning just enough to press a kiss to the soft swell of your breast, he listened, his heavy weight pressing you into the soft bed as he melted on top of you.

He’s been asleep for a while now, your bodies entwined, each seeking out the other: your arm slung low over his belly, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as he lays on his back, his face buried your hair, his arm curled around you.

You want to join him, your eyes heavy and tired, but you can’t bring yourself to close them.

Taking time to look at him, you watch the slow rise and fall of his chest, admire the dips and curves of his collarbone, feel the smooth skin over his ribs before gliding your hand down to the soft rise of his belly. Slowly propping yourself up on your elbow, you watch as he frowns in his sleep and seeks you out when you move away from him, his head tipping to the side into the warmth of your pillow. He stays asleep though and you reach up to softly push back a lock of his hair, wanting nothing to impede the view of his face under your gaze.

The curve of his jaw, the sharp profile of his nose, the way his long, dark eyelashes fan against his cheeks: he always tells you how beautiful you are, always whispering it in your ear, always stroking you in the bath when he mumbles it into your skin and you feel the same way right now as you look at him in the dark room. 

He is so beautiful it makes your chest ache, makes your breath hitch and as you run the tip of your finger over his lips, you feel like it’s almost too much to look directly at him.

Soaking in the warmth of his body under your blanket, his limbs pressed tight against yours, your need for him blooms under your inspection of him. You can feel slick pooling in your core, the memory of how he felt inside of you earlier in the night returning and you feel so empty as you clench around nothing.

Glancing down the length of his body, you carefully slide yourself down on the bed until your face is level with the dip of his hip and you press a kiss to the sharp bone there, sliding your lips over the shallow well of it before nuzzling your nose through the sparse patch of hair under his belly button. Aroused at the thought of how he always takes his time with you, you do the same: wet, open mouthed kisses over his skin, your tongue tracing a circle over the other hip bone before licking the thin skin over it. He tastes clean, like the soap you use in the bath with him, but also slightly salty from the sweat that dried on his skin from earlier and you savor the taste of him, licking your lips before pressing them against his skin.

Placing your hand on the smooth inside of his knee, you slowly glide your hand up along the inside of his thigh. Even in rest, the muscle of his leg feels so sturdy and strong and you splay your fingers wide over it, dipping the pads of them into the crease of his groin.

He slowly hardens under your hand when you palm him, the thick length of his cock hot in your grip when you stroke him and you move back up to stretch out along his body, resting your head on his shoulder. 

He hums in his sleep when you slip your leg between his to straddle his thigh and giving him a another slow stroke, you roll your hips over the firm muscle, seeking the pressure of it against your clit. Finding it, you roll them again, this time a little harder and he flexes his thigh between your legs. He’s awake, though he’s too relaxed to open his eyes when he settles his hand over yours to tighten your grip. Your hands now moving together, he feels the way your hips move; a slow, sleepy grind against his leg and he rests his other hand lightly on the side of your head, delicately drawing your hair back before sliding it down to stroke the soft skin between your shoulders.

“That’s it, girl”, his voice husky and thick with sleep. Waking up to your gentle exploration, he now watches your face, your eyes closed in concentration as you roll your hips slightly faster, focusing on the way the firm muscle is rubbing against you just right, your cunt gliding over his skin.

Your fist tightens around him as you ride his thigh, the velvety skin of his cock slick with the arousal that drips out of the tip and your hands slide together, up and down, up and down and when you swipe your thumb over the sensitive head of him, he lets out the most deliciously soft groan; his head pressing back into the pillow.

“I know it feels good, girl”, his voice slightly desperate, his hips flexing up off the mattress with every tug. “But why don’t you come up here and let me feel how wet I make that cunt of yours.”

A whimper out of your own throat at his words, imagining him filling you again with his cock or maybe he means he wants to use his mouth this time. You want both of those things, but not being able to decide on either you tighten your thighs around his, pressing your soaked cunt against his leg harder, rolling your hips faster. A heat creeping up over your chest and an ache spreading through your belly and down, your cunt flutters around his thigh when he digs his fingers into your shoulder and begs you.

“Don’t come, girl”, his voice hoarse, he swallows thickly before continuing. “I — I want to make you come.” His hand squeezes yours tighter, forcing you to stroke him faster. “I want you to come in my mouth. It’ll feel better than my leg, girl; I promise. I pro —“, a hiss at your thumb swiping over the top of him, you feel his body tense under yours as he gets ready to come. “I promise I’ll make it feel good.”

Bearing down on his leg, you start to come when he does; his begging and the way his jaw is flexing with tension and the hot, sticky spurts of his come coating your hands; all of it together along with his tense thigh under you, the muscle rigid with his release and your cry is muffled when you press your face into his shoulder, your thighs locking around his for a moment; hips stuttering against him as you draw out your own remaining ripples.

His cock slowly softening under your hand, you let it go and bring your fingers to your mouth, making sure he is watching as you lick between the grooves of your fingers; drawing the milky slick into your mouth and swallowing.

A shaky sigh as his cock twitches against his belly, he closes his eyes with a frown and presses his face into your shoulder; his breath gusting over the skin.

Pulling you into his arms, a soft grunt of contentment leaves his mouth at the way he can taste himself when you kiss him, your tongue brushing against his. You kiss lazily for a while, your mouths slowly opening to each other, your lips catching and sliding together.

You move your mouth down to his chin, pressing a kiss against it before following the line of his jaw. Nibbling on the corner of it, you can tell from his breathing that he is sliding back into sleep; the hand currently stroking the soft skin of your back slowing to a rest. Tracing the shell of his ear with your nose, you skim it along his hairline, sliding it up into his soft curls to inhale his scent.

Propping yourself back up on your elbow, you blink rapidly to stay awake, fighting against the heavy pull of sleep. You don’t know what time it is, but if you had to guess, you’d say it’s close to dawn: only a few hours left. Tracing the hollow of his throat with your thumb, you skim your hand over his solid chest, along his broad shoulder, then over his side and you lean down to kiss his temple, the ridge of his eyebrow, his cheek.

Only a few hours to soak him in, to memorize the way he feels next to you right now and you yawn; your eyelashes wet with the tears of it as they brush against his skin; your mouth a hot press now over his heart.


	22. THE LETTER

You can’t remember the last time you got a letter – it’s been years, maybe longer than that; certainly never at the brothel – and frowning when the madam hands it to you, you study the unfamiliar writing on the front of the small brown parcel as you carry it upstairs.

You can’t open it now, not with the day having already begun and customers waiting downstairs, so you tuck it away in your vanity for opening later and it’s late, when you finally get to open it.

Sitting on the edge of your bed in your shift, your fingers gently untying the rough twine in the dim light of your room, the paper falls open to reveal two letters resting on top of a small bundle encased in tissue paper. When you open the first one, your face splits into a smile, your eyes flooding with tears.

_I hope this reaches you in time for Christmas, I’m not sure if I waited too long. I was thinking about you the other night in my tent, about the gift you gave me. I wear it all the time, thinking about you just as much and though it doesn’t smell like you anymore, it will soon. I thought you might like to have something that smells of me, so I bought you this present. The first one is for you and the second one is for me. We will be back in a few weeks, if the weather holds and I’ll expect to find you wearing nothing but my present, girl._

_I love you._

_Din Djarin_

Gently unfolding the tissue paper, you find a delicate kerchief, the white fabric almost transparent in it’s fineness with curled lace around the edges and lifting it up to your nose, you inhale deeply. Holding it against your face, you see the second gift: a luxurious pair of silk stockings; the slippery fabric sliding in the paper as you gently lift them up.

Setting the gifts down, you run your thumb over his neat signature, the soft curls of the letters so elegant. The part you really savor – besides the “ _I love you_ ” – is your name at the top and your fingertip gently strokes the paper, picturing his hand writing it by the light of the lantern.

Wiping a small tear from the corner of your eye, you open the second letter, much shorter than the first and you let out a shaky laugh at the large, blocked letters, neat on the page.

_Merry Christmas! Papa says we should be back to you in two weeks, but can I tell you a secret? I like riding in the snow. Sometimes it’s cold, but mostly it’s fun. I made a snow angel the other day, I wish you could have seen it. I miss you but we will see you soon._

The bottom of the letter is filled with small drawings – a man, a child, a woman – your names over the tops of the figures and you admire the small details: the horse in the background, the snowflakes in the corner of the pages.

Setting the letter down on your bed, you pick up the kerchief again. Gently rubbing the fine fabric with your thumb, you imagine him picking this out – a man like him walking into a fine ladies’ store – and you press the fabric to your nose again, smelling it.

It does smell like him, like that hollow below his ear that you love to fit your nose into, like his warm skin and it’s suddenly hard to breathe with how much you miss him right now, how constricted your chest is with the ache. You want to sleep with the fabric draped over your face or next to you on your pillow, but you are careful to preserve the scent, taking one last small sniff before gently folding it back into the tissue paper.

You look over his letter again, thinking about he must have learned such fine penmanship growing up and you frown at a small line of writing on the bottom of the letter - you must have missed it the first time reading.

_P.S. I want you to use the back of this paper to write down every dirty thought you have of me while I’m away. I know you have a lot of them, so I’ve left you ample room. When I get back, let’s read them together._

Laughing with a sniff, you sit down at your vanity, digging in the drawer for a pen and laying out a fresh sheet of paper, not wanting to soil something as precious as his letter, you begin a list for him.


	23. THE ASK

It’s after dinner and you sit on your bed, listening to the kid recite from his primer while Din shaves. The boy’s reading is clear and smooth, his father scraping neat lines over his face with a razor and it’s almost like a home, this picture of domestic activity in the small room.

Your hand resting lightly on his little back, you smile at his progress before pressing a kiss to his mop of hair and glancing up at Din, you watch him lift his chin high, running the razor tight against his skin as he gathers the last swath of white foam with a practiced, steady motion. His shirt pulls across his back as he hunches over the bowl and your eyes linger on the way the material is tucked neatly into his pants, the way it’s rolled up over his forearms, the way the collar gapes at his throat. Swishing the razor in the little bowl on your vanity, he inspects himself in the mirror and when he sees you looking at him in the reflection, he winks.

“It’s bedtime, kid”, he says, wiping his face with a towel. “Time to see Gracie.”

The easiest money Gracie ever made; she has been thrilled with the new arrangement Din has been requesting for the last couple of visits. She likes playing with the two of you, sometimes missing the inventive games Din comes up with, but she also loves the kid and her sleep; something she got little of during your long nights.

Excited at the thought of seeing her, the kid jumps down from the bed and giving you a goodnight kiss, leaves with Din to go downstairs.

\--

“I thought about you wearing my gift, girl”, he groans, his head tipped back with a sigh as you stroke him under the water. “I can’t wait to see you in them.”

You admire the smooth skin of his cheeks, the neat moustache the only thing left from the sparse beard he grew while on the trail and you lean in to kiss the smooth underside of his jaw, slowly trailing your lips down his neck.

“What did you want to do to me in them?”, you murmur, your fingers curling tighter around his cock as you tug on the thick length, your wrist slowly twisting with the motion.

“I can’t –“, another low groan at the way your hand feels and your mouth, now nibbling along his damp collarbone. “I can’t decide. I know I wanna fuck you, but –”

You cut him off, kissing him heatedly and he cups your face in his hands, pulling you closer. Your hand still working him under the water, his hips flex up to meet your touch and his tongue presses further into your mouth, licking against yours. You’ve thought about it too – about what you wanted him to do to you in them, your body anticipating it ever since you opened the package – and your hand moves faster; your hips rolling over his thighs in time with your strokes. Feeling you moving on his lap, he slides one hand under the water and slips it between your legs, lightly stroking against the seam of you.

“Do you want me to fuck you in this tub?”, he asks, pulling back to watch your face as he sinks two fingers into you. You can see the black bleeding into the brown when his eyes watch as you silently moan with the stretch, your hips pushing down onto his hand.

“No”, you breathe, the way you’re moving in direct contrast with your answer and he matches the speed of your strokes with his own; his thumb seeking out your clit.

“Are you sure?” His voice is a low rasp, sounding steadier than his face looks right now; his eyes closed with a frown as he heavily exhales.

“I wanted you in my bed”, you moan, your fingers digging into the firm muscle of his shoulder to brace yourself and you let out a choked whimper when he adds another finger.

For a moment it’s only this – the two of you in the bath, your hands busy beneath the churning water, your foreheads resting against each other’s as you bring the other higher and higher and you lean in to kiss him for a moment, but neither one of you can hold it with the way you are panting into each other’s mouths.

“You can have me there after this, okay?”, he tells you and you nod, swiping your thumb over the thick tip of his cock. Rubbing the pad of your thumb against the underside of it, you can feel him swell in your hand and you swipe it over the top again before resuming your strokes.

“Make me come, girl”, he begs, his other hand curling around the top of your thigh, holding you against his lap. Your strokes are quick, your fingers tightening in a firm hold and you clench down on his fingers when he tips his head back with a groan. The dip in his throat working with the motion, you lean in and lick it, your lips molding around his adam’s apple and when he groans again, you do the same.

“I’m gonna come”, you pant against his flushed skin and he nods, his hand sliding around to your ass, guiding your hips in their roll over his hand. “I want you to come with me, okay?”

He looks at you, his eyes pleading and wide and you brush your lips against his; slick pooling around his fingers when you whisper to him, watching him close his eyes tight.

“Let’s do it together, okay? I wanna do it together.”

\--

Both of you sated for the moment, you take your time with the stockings, making a show of putting them on as he dries himself off. He can’t take his eyes off the way you slowly work the material up over your foot, your calve, your thigh and when you wrap the ribbon around the top to tie it in place, his eyes linger on how your flesh spills slightly over the press of it.

Kneeling on the floor beside the bed, he positions himself between your knees and you can feel the heat of his body radiating between your thighs while he watches you put on the second one. Your foot slipping into the silk, you slowly draw it up over your leg and as soon as it’s in place, he settles his hands on top of your thighs, pushing them open wider. The rough pads of his fingers catch slightly against the fine fabric when he gently lifts your legs to place them on top of his shoulders and you lean back onto your elbows, smiling down at the way he is kissing your leg through the stocking.

One leg at a time, just like the way you put them on, his mouth is a hot press over the silk; the material dampening with his saliva as he kisses his way up. You can see why he shaved now, his smooth cheek gliding against your leg as he rubs his face against it and you are aching by the time he reaches the top. Skimming his lips over the ribbon, he rests his cheek against the soft expanse of skin over the top of it and he stays there for a moment, the heat of his mouth just over your cunt. 

It’s unbearable and he knows it, the way his hot breath is ghosting over your folds, his mouth so close to where you need him. Arousal pooling at your entrance, he can see the way you squirm on the bed, the way you drop your legs open wider and smiling, he works his way back down your other leg, his lips delicate and warm over the silk. 

“Show me, girl”, he mumbles against it, kissing his way back up. “Show me how you fuck yourself.”

He watches as your hands palm the weight of your breasts, your fingertips slowly circling the peaks of them, your thumbs stroking over the hardened buds before you skate your hands slowly down your body. Down, down, down over your belly and over your mound and when you reach your cunt, he watches as you dip your fingers inside with a soft moan.

They glisten with slick when you pull them out and push them back in again and you arch against the mattress, pulling him closer to you with the way your calves rest on his shoulders. 

This is what he wanted the most when he bought these stockings, to be surrounded in the _softness_ of you: the silk, your thighs, the hair covering your cunt, your sounds, your scent. It is what he aches for while he is away from you; what he longs for the most.

More softness will come later, when he is inside you, when you pull him into your bed and against your body, when you talk to him while he presses his face into your hair but for right now, he wants to see what you want; wants to hear you say it.

“Tell me, girl”, he says, watching your fingers disappear inside your cunt with a wet slide. “Tell me what you thought about me doing to you with these stockings on.”

You say nothing, collecting slick on the pads of your fingers and rubbing a smooth circle over your clit, your hips rocking forward into the motion.

It’s silly, to think of being embarrassed to say the words out loud, given all you’ve done with him and especially given what you’re doing right now, inches from his face, but you still feel a heat creep over your chest and face when you think about telling him.

Looking down at him, you become brave when you see how _hungry_ he looks, how mesmerized he is by the way you are moving your fingers with a wet glide over yourself and it gives you strength, to see how much he wants it.

“I wanted to – _oh_ – I wanted to sit on your face”, you confess with your eyes closed tight, a rush of slick leaking at the thought of him underneath you, his tongue licking inside you. “I wanted to feel your mouth on me. I wanted you to make me come like that.”

“ _Yes_ ”, he whispers, leaning in to lick against the back of your hand and when you feel the wet press of his tongue against it, you move it away and thread your damp fingers into his hair to pull him close. He softly licks into you once, twice before pulling away to stand, climbing onto the bed. You scramble to make room for him, climbing quickly up his body and you only just have the bedframe in your hands when he pulls you down on his mouth.

A choked moan fills his ears when you grind against him, your head dropping down between your shoulders to look down at him and his dark eyes look back up at you, the lower half of his face hidden by your cunt. His hands restlessly roam over the top of your thighs, savoring the feeling of the slippery silk.

This is everything you wanted, his tongue buried deep, his nose brushing against your clit and when you start to rock your hips against his face, he reaches down to curl his hands around the bottom of your feet, his hold giving you something to brace against. Your hands pushing through his thick hair, you tug on the strands when you start to feel your hips stuttering and he groans into you, the sound muffled and deep.

“Just like this”, you whine, opening your thighs wide around his cheeks, “this is what I want.”

His lips focus on your clit, wrapping around the bundle of nerves for a moment and sucking before gliding the tip of his tongue firmly over it again and again. You are dripping into his mouth, your cunt fluttering around his tongue and he is painfully aroused at the thought of you thinking about this, the very same thing he thought about in his tent when he bought you these stockings. Desperate to make you come, to give you _everything_ since this how you wanted it, he splays his hands over your hips, his fingers pressing into your flesh when he pulls you tight against his face, gliding his tongue faster over your clit.

_Yes, yes, yes_ you moan, just like that and the roll of your hips stops just for a moment before you come, the heat of it flooding into his mouth. His hands holding you firmly in place, he is content to slowly lick you through your release for as long as you need him to; until he can feel the tension leave your thighs, until your hands relax their hold on his hair.

Pulling away from you with a hum, he wipes his mouth on the stocking, pressing a kiss to the silk and you climb off, stretching out next to him in the bed. Rolling towards you, he kisses you and you can feel how hard he is against your hip, the leaking tip of him sliding across the skin there.

“How did you want it?” It’s your turn to ask him, knowing he’s been waiting so long to show you and when he settles his heavy body between your legs, you automatically wind your legs around his waist, squeezing him tight. Pushing into you with low groan, he likes the way the silk slides against his sides, the slippery fabric warm with the heat of your body and you wrap your legs tighter.

“Like this”, he gasps, his eyes closed in a frown.

You can feel the flex of his muscles against the inside of your thighs, his hips rocking forward into you and you hook your ankles together, telling him you want it harder than this.

“Yea?”, he asks, dropping his mouth to rest along your shoulder, his hair sliding against your cheek. “What about deeper, girl? Do you want it deeper?” His movements matching his words, he strokes inside of you with a slow grind, fisting the cool bedding to put more weight behind his thrusts and you hitch your legs higher on his torso.

It's so _much_ for him- your feet sliding against his back, the silk covering your thighs rubbing against his sides, the soft press of your breasts under his chest, the smell of your warm, flushed skin, the small whimpers that escape from your mouth, the squeeze of your slick, tight cunt. His arms hook under your knees and pressing them into your chest with the weight of his body, he tries not to come when you tip your head back into the pillow and beg.

“I want it deeper too”, you tell him, your hands reaching up to brace yourself against the rails of the bed, “Please. I want more, Din. I want more.”

\--

Hiding your hot face in your hands, you can’t watch as he reads your list, his eyes slowly widening as he moves down the page.

“Girl”, he says in an awed hush, “These are _filthy_.”

“You told me too!”, you laugh, the words muffled by your hands and when you start to roll away from him, he shoots his hand out and holds you firmly in place.

You can feel his lips on the back of your hands, his hot breath through the cracks of your fingers and when you move your hands away, you smile at how delighted he looks, his eyes shining bright with teasing excitement.

“I want you to say these out loud”, he smiles and already knowing what your reaction will be, he quickly settles his hand on your wrist to make sure you can’t cover your face again.

“Come on, girl”, he teases, a grin on his face with how flustered you look right now, “If you can think it and you can write it, then you can say it.”

Turning your head to hide your face in your pillow, you think it’s probably silly to be embarrassed to say the words out loud, given what you do all day long with other men, the way you utter filth to them without a thought but they don’t _matter_ like he does; they are nothing like this.

“You want me to do some of these things, right?”, he asks, pressing a kiss to your ear and when you nod into the pillow, he quietly laughs. “Then you gotta say them.”

“Maybe you should just save it”, you reply sweetly, finally looking up at him. “Read it in your tent at night and circle the best ones, so the next time you see me, we can do them.”

His eyes narrow at your attempt to get out of reading the list and you watch him think for a moment, eventually deciding to drop the subject. Folding the paper up, he reaches with a stretch over you and places it on your bedside table before settling back down next to you. 

Holding his hand up, it’s warm and dry against yours when you press your palms together, your fingers matching up with his and the two of you look at them for a moment, your heads resting on either side of the pillow.

“Did you like my gift?”, he asks quietly, his fingers sliding between yours and you nod, drawing the clasped hands to your mouth. 

“I did.” You softly kiss his knuckles and he watches your plush lips mold around the sharp bones. “I liked your letter more though.”

He smiles, remembering when he wrote it. It had surprised him how much he looked forward to writing it – it’s been a long time since he’s had anyone to send a letter to.

“I wish I could write you back”, you continue, now moving on to kiss the tips of his fingers. “I would have, if you had an address.”

He huffs a laugh, raising his eyebrows in agreement. “I don’t have much use for a house; I’d never be in it.”

“That’s true.” You smirk at him, opening the curl of his hand to press a kiss to his palm. “Why have a house when you can just come sleep in my bed when you need one?”

His voice drops an octave when he replies suggestively. “Maybe I should buy a house just so you can come sleep in _my_ bed _all_ the time.”

“Are you inviting me home with you, Din Djarin?”, you tease, your smile not quite reaching your eyes when you realize what you just said.

The playful words suddenly taking on more meaning, they rest heavy between the two of you, the space filling with them and when he reaches out to you, you eagerly slide into his arms; not only to hide your face as it threatens to crumble, but to feel his strong body against yours, holding you tight.

“Is that what you want?”, he asks, his fingers brushing against your chin until you pull your face back to look at him and you can’t breathe; the _want_ banding around your chest, suffocating you. What he is asking is something you only let yourself think about in the darkest part of the night and even then, you try to push the thought away. It’s dangerous to hope for something that isn’t going to come true.

He waits for an answer and maybe it’s because you’re so close to him, his heart a steady drum against your chest, beating strength into you or maybe it’s that you feel braver in his arms - either way, you know you can tell him the truth.

Still, it’s a hard thing to confess your deepest wants and dreams to someone, even harder to do it while looking them in the eye, so you press your face into the space between the pillow and his neck, letting your words flow freely into that little pocket of warmth.

“You know I would”, you whisper. “It’s the only thing I want.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, each lost in your own thoughts and you can barely hear him when he murmurs into your hair.

“I wish I could give you more, girl.”

Pulling back from him, you study his solemn face. “You do give me more.”

His deep brown eyes look back at you and you are desperate for him to know how much more he has already given you; how much more you could have ever hoped for.

“You give me more with this”, whispering to him, referring to the way he is laying with you right now, his arm draped over your side. “With the way you look at me. With the way you ask me questions and _really_ listen to the answers.” Cupping his face in your hand, you stroke the line of his cheek. “With the way you love me.”

You sigh into his mouth when he kisses you, his hand sliding smoothly up your back to pull you close as his lips press against yours. Pulling you on top of him, he deepens the kiss with a soft sound into your mouth and you drape yourself over his chest, your arms sliding up over his head, your mouth breaking away to whisper to him.

_I love you,_ your lips brushing against the shell of his ear; _I love you,_ your mouth warm and wet on the side of his neck; _I love you,_ your nose fitting against his, your lips gently parting with a sweet exhale; _I love you._

\--

“He’ll be fine, girl”, Din sighs, shifting his weight onto one foot, his hands on his hips as he watches you fuss over the kid’s hat and mittens.

“It’s cold out there”, you reply, kneeling in front of him and as you fiddle with his muffler, Din watches, a smile tugging at his lips. It’s not lost on him how motherly you are being right now, how marital this all seems in your worry over the two of them and he tamps down the ache in his chest when he turns to pack his saddle bag of provisions at the bar.

Shoving the wrapped parcels of food into the leather bag, he thinks about his conversation with the sheriff that he had yesterday, about an opening at the jail.

_“We are full up here, in terms of staff”, replied Marcus, leaning back in his chair; a slight frown furrowed into his brow at the thought of losing his best bounty hunter. “But new jails are popping up all around – they just built one in the big city south of here. I could send word? If you’re sick of bounty hunting?”_

_Grimacing at the word “city”, Din glances at the kid, watching his little legs kicking aimlessly under his chair, his body rocking with the motion. “No”, he sighs, turning back to the sheriff, looking at the thick stack of wanted flyers on his desk. “Just give us whatever you have.”_

He wonders if he should have brought it up to you, wonders if maybe he still should, but as his fingers deftly buckle the leather straps, he decides it was best not to say anything. He hopes you can hang on a little longer, giving him enough time to figure out another plan. What plan, he doesn’t know.

Turning back to you, he lets out a deep sigh at the way you’ve bundled the kid.

Not satisfied until the only thing you can see is the kid’s face, you press a kiss to the tip of his nose before pulling his kerchief up over it.

“You look like an outlaw”, you tease, and he laughs, his bright eyes crinkling above the fabric. “Maybe your papa will try to catch you.”

“He’s not going to be able to run very far swaddled in all those layers” Din says dryly, and you stand to face him, resting your hands on his hips.

He leans in to kiss you, his broad hands cupping the sides of your neck, the pads of his thumbs stroking your soft cheeks. Too early for anyone else to be downstairs, it’s a kiss that lingers; his mouth opening yours, his tongue slipping inside, and you reach your hands under his jacket, pulling on the soft material of his shirt to press yourself closer.

“It’s gonna be awhile before we’re back, girl”, he says, his voice a deep rumble into your ear as you rest your head against his chest. “The next job is further away than we usually travel.”

Looking up at him, you try not to visibly deflate at his words. You know he has to go; you don’t want to make this any harder for him than it has to be and nodding your head, you tilt your chin up for another kiss.

“Be careful, okay?”, you whisper against his mouth and it’s his turn to nod, his lips pressing against yours.

“We always are, aren’t we kid?” He looks at the kid for support and the kid tugs on his hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Come on – I wanna ride in the snow.”


	24. THE HOUR

“Wake up, girl”, Din whispers and you almost think you’re still dreaming; that low, soothing voice in your ear. The cool air from the bedroom seeps in under your covers as he peels them back and you frown at the loss of heat until he slides in next to you; his nude body radiating it.

You turn and curl into him, your arms winding around his neck as he pulls you in for a kiss and it’s a soft press of his lips against yours once, twice before you pull back, confused.

“Wait”, you stop him, your voice thick with sleep, “Aren’t you supposed to be gone? I thought you said you were going to be gone longer than usual. It’s only been two weeks.”

“Aren’t you happy to see me?”, he teases, trailing his fingers down your arm. He gently circles your wrist, pulling your hand down his body, your knuckles skating against his firm skin. Down, down, down, dragging over the sparse patch of hair over his cock until he presses your palm against the length of him, hot and heavy under your touch. “I’m happy to see you.”

“Oh, stop”, you smile, seeking his lips out while you softly cup him in your hand. “You know I am. I was just expecting you to be gone a lot longer.”

“We –“, a low groan cutting him off when you start to slowly stroke him under the blanket, “—we aren’t done. The bounty was spotted near here, about 20 miles west. I should be riding over there right now but I – _fuck, girl_ – I couldn’t help but stop. Not with you so close.”

You grin at his words, feeling as if you could float into the air with how happy they make you feel; how loved. You might be stuck here, he might not have a house to bring you home with him, you might not get to see him every single day but to know he is thinking about you just as much, passing up an opportunity to catch a bounty just to _see_ you makes up for it.

“How long do you have?”, you ask, deepening your kiss. Your tongue brushes against his when you sweep it through his mouth and you savor the taste of him, savor his low hum that vibrates against your lips.  
  


“About an hour”, he murmurs into your mouth; his lips parting yours with a warm exhale of breath.  
  
It’s something about these words – “about an hour” – that make you pause, your chest tightening and sinking at the same time; a feeling of being so desperately _sad_ suddenly creeping through you.

  
 _About an hour._ That’s how long everyone gets when they visit the inn and even though you know he isn’t like the rest of them, you can’t help but dwell on the similarities. He has come to visit, like all of them; for an hour, like they all get; then he is going to leave, like they all do. It’s that last part that you can’t stop thinking about – the leaving. You don’t want him to go. Not now; not ever.

It’s a lot to process in your muddled state of having just woken up – the surprise of him being here, his heated touches as his hands skate over your skin, his honest admission of love, the slap of reality that it’s only for an hour - and you close your eyes tight, trying desperately to get your emotions under control.

Your hand leaving his cock, you wrap your arms tight around his neck and kiss him, thinking the anchor of his mouth will help. Pressing your lips tightly against his, you try to push away the thought of him being just another customer and when you can’t stop thinking about it, you deepen the kiss, curling your hands into his hair, seeking out the reassuring press of his body against yours.  
  


He pulls back, a smile on his lips, ready to make a joke about how you must be really needy for it today when he looks at your face and his smile drops. “What’s wrong, girl?”  
  
“Nothing”, you reply, trying to dismiss the question, “I’ve just missed you.” You try to pull him back towards you, but he is too smart for that. He knows you too well.  
  
“Tell me”, he says softly, but firmly.  
  
“I just –“, you start, willing yourself to look him in the eyes, “I don’t want you to leave.” Your face crumpling, you try to right it, adjusting your tone to be more lighthearted. “You spoil me. I’m just used to you staying the whole night.”

“I wish I could, girl”, he soothes, his hand skating up the middle of your back, rubbing between your shoulder blades. “You know I want to, but –”

You nod, cutting him off with a kiss. It hurts, the thought of him leaving so soon after showing up and although you _know_ he would stay if he could, has always stayed longer, you can feel your chest caving in, your heart aching inside.

You try to stop it, telling yourself how different he is, but you can’t stop your body from becoming slightly stiff under his touch and he can tell instantly, breaking the kiss. He says nothing, those dark eyes surveying your face and you see a slight frown furrow between his brows.

 _Stop_ , you tell yourself, _he is only here for an hour, make it count, he came all the way here for you_ but you’re spiraling out of control inside. He looks at you, your face wooden but your eyes wild and he can tell something isn’t right.

“Do you want to stop?”, he asks quietly, reaching up to brush your hair back from your temple and you shake your head no, pulling him back to you. It’s the last thing you want; you want to feel his skin against yours, feel his strong body between your legs, fill your head with his words. You know it’ll make you feel better and seeking faster relief, you pull him in for an urgent kiss, your mouth opening wide against his.

A smarter person would try to protect themselves, try to put up a barrier but you can’t help the way your body responds to him. It calls out for him even when he _isn’t_ here and instead of drawing inwards to protect yourself, you find yourself becoming desperate to feel him, like you want to merge with him and keep him here with you forever.

He isn’t quite sure what is happening when he feels your body tremble against his, when your fingers dig into the nape of his neck, threading through his hair and tugging on the strands but he matches your urgency; his own broad hands splaying across your skin, gripping tighter.

Winding your leg up and over his hip, you tug him on top of you seeking the reassuring weight of his body and suddenly the two of you are kissing each other breathless, his hand reaching down to shove your legs open so he can line himself up. Not quite ready for him, you cry out into his mouth when he pushes inside of you and he groans at how tight you feel, the drag of his cock against your slick walls.

If you could just keep him _here_ – in your bed, on top of you, inside of you – everything would be alright. Hitching your legs higher around his torso, you cradle his head in your hands, drinking in his harsh exhales as he hovers his mouth right above yours and you feel so _full,_ but it’s not enough; you need to see him.

Pushing against his chest, you beg him to sit up, to change positions.

“I want to sit on your lap”, you beg, your breath hitching at another harsh thrust inside. “I wanna fuck you – _fuck, Din_ – I want –”

You don’t finish your sentence with the way he immediately pulls out, kneeling on the bed to sit on his heels and you quickly follow him, climbing onto his lap. He lines himself up again when you straddle his thighs and his forehead rests heavily against your chest when you lower yourself onto his cock.

“Like this?”, he asks, the hot press of his mouth over your heart, making sure this is what you wanted and it’s a few testing rolls of your hips before you need to be even closer, winding your legs around him.

Your hands cupping the sides of his neck, your thumbs guide his face up to yours and you lean down to kiss him, your lips fitting neatly together. When you nod to let him know it’s okay to keep going, you brace your feet against the bed as you start to ride him and his arms circle your body, holding you tight as he answers with a thrust of his hips. His broad hand splayed over the middle of your spine, the other looping around until his forearm is a strong brace over your lower back, you pant into his mouth as you fuck him faster, trying to forget about him leaving.

He has never felt you so needy like this before and he’s reminded of himself – the tight grip you have on him, the wet glide of your mouth over his neck as you suck the skin there, the frustrated sound you make when your hands slide up into his hair and tug. He wonders if you feel what he’s felt before; the desperation to soothe his frayed nerves, his aching heart and holds you tighter, nipping at your collarbone with a groan.

If that’s how you feel, he knows what you need – something rougher, something harder, something to break through that fog of emotion and pull you out of your head, to bring you back into this room with him. His hand curling around your hip with a bruising force, he thrusts harshly upwards and you cry out, telling him to do it again.

“Like this?”, he grunts, dragging your hips over his; his cock a slick, full drag inside your cunt. “You want to get fucked like this?”

“Yes”, you moan, digging your fingers into his firm shoulders, working your hips faster. “I need it like this. I need you like this.”

“Tell me, girl”, he pants, his brow a frown as he shoves himself inside you, a warm ache building at the base of his spine at how wet you are. “Tell me who this cunt belongs to.”

Your eyes close as a shiver runs through you, your nipples hardening against his chest as a flash of heat rolls over your skin. You say nothing, your cunt leaking a hot rush of slick onto his lap at his words and his hand curls around the back of your head, gripping your hair and giving it a sharp tug in reprimand. 

“You”, you cry out at another sharp tug. “Only you.” Your hips move faster in their roll over his, his thick cock stroking something deep; his voice soothing something deeper.

“Say it louder, girl”, he pants harshly as he thrusts up into you. “I want everyone in this fucking inn to know who this cunt belongs to.”

“You!”, you shout hoarsely, the pace of your hips increasing with a whimper. “It belongs to you; you know it does.”

“Has it ever belonged to anyone else?”, he asks, slamming your hips together, looking into your eyes with a possessive, dark gaze.

“ _No_ ”, you answer with a sob, starting to come. “No one else. Only you. It’s only ever been yours.”

He can feel you come around him, your cunt squeezing him in a tight, wet press and he keeps his rapid pace up, stroking you through it. His broad hands spanning the sides of your head, he holds you in place inches from his face as he says your name – not girl, _your real name._ He’s only said it a few times and a tear glides down your cheek at the sound of it, the rich timber of his voice echoing in your head. His words are frantic and hushed, his lips brushing against yours when he tells you he’s yours.

“In here, out there. Even when I walk out of this fucking inn, I’m yours. You know that, right?”

You nod your head in his grip, reaching up to cup your hand over his.

“I know; I know it.”

“I’m – I’m trying to figure something out, but I just –“, he starts, but you stop him with a shake of your head.

“It’s okay”, you murmur, trying to catch your breath, leaning forward to pull him closer. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

He resists your pull, seeking to keep his eyes on yours to gauge the truth of your words and he knows he has done a little to soothe your pain, but it’s still not enough.

Tipping the two of you back into the bed, he pushes back into you with a kiss. Maybe his words aren’t enough right now, maybe he needs to show you this way and your arms wrap tight around each other; the locked embrace of your bodies in the middle of the bed; the low light of the late afternoon shining through the curtains as he gives you a kiss for each thrust in; _kissing you, kissing you, kissing you._

–

He keeps peeking over at you while getting dressed, slowly buttoning his shirt as you sit on the edge of the bed, tugging your robe over your shoulders.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone”, Din says, sitting down next to you, tugging his boots on. “The bounty was spotted near here, but so far he’s been good at evading us.”

He watches your face as he talks and you nod at his words, but he can tell you are only half listening. It’s like you are wilting in front of him, your eyes still so beautiful even as they seem far away and he reaches over, pulling you in for a kiss.

You clutch at his soft shirt, your breath hitching as you open your mouth to his and he wants nothing more than to climb back into the bed with you, but he has to _go._

“I love you”, he whispers, and you repeat the words, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. His lips are delicate against your cheeks, your chin, a kiss for each eyelid and when comes back to your mouth, your nose fits neatly against his as he stays there for a moment; the pad of his thumb tracing the shell of your ear to keep you close.

You watch him when he gets up to leave, your eyes lingering on the snug fit of his jacket, the mussed crown of his hair, the dark green material of his kerchief circling his throat and even though you feel like crying, you don’t. You know it’s not his fault he has to leave; you don’t want to make it any harder for him.

Standing in the doorway of your room, he turns to give you one last look and he watches as you slowly lay back down on your bed, your body curling into itself.

–

Placing the money in the madam’s hand, he feels repulsed by this exchange of money, that he has put a quantifiable price on the time he just spent with you; that time worth so much more than this small sum.

He thinks about your face when he said he had an hour, your face as you came around him, your face when he left the room, and he presses more money into the madam’s hand.

“I’m not staying, but this is for tonight.”

A look of annoyance flashes across her features as she accepts the money; there are still so many earning hours left in the day for you. “Din, it’s the middle of the afternoon. I know you didn’t wear her out that bad in only one hour.”

A flare of anger for this woman burns bright as he glares at her. Fuck this woman and her business. You are worth so much more than what she asks for you, so much more than just a profitable extension of her brothel and even though it makes him sick, he peels more bank notes off his roll and pushes them towards her.

“Actually, this is for the week”, he says, barely staying in control as she scoffs.

“You can’t do that”, she says in disbelief. “That’s not how this works. If you’re here, you can rent time with her and I let it slide that you pay for her next day off because you’ve always been generous, but she is one of my most profitable –”

“Here”, he spits out, his hands slightly trembling when he stuffs all but a few notes into her hand. “This is enough for the month. I’ll be back –”

“Din, this is ridiculous”, the madam replies, shaking her head. “You can’t –”

“I can!”, he all but shouts. “She’s done.”

The madam snaps her head up, her eyes narrowing in impatience and she is about to reply when Din stalks away from her. Gracie and kid, having been downstairs the whole time, leap to attention when he motions for the kid to follow him and he ignores Gracie’s shocked face as he quickly walks out of the brothel.

He knows he should go up and tell you what he’s just done, but the only thing he can think about is your face and how it looked when he left. He can’t bear to look at you again; your pain already seared into his memory. Helping the kid up onto his horse just outside, he climbs up onto his own and reasons that he needs to just leave – the sooner he gets on the road, the sooner he can fix this.

–

“He what?”, you ask, sitting down on a stool bar the bar, slightly in shock.

“He said you’re done; he’s paid for the next month.” The madam assesses you with cool gaze, a look of annoyance still plain on her face. “I need you to move into the smaller bedroom downstairs, I need your room for a working girl.”

You say nothing, your fingers fiddling with the sash of your robe as you process her words.

“You get a month and then you’ll have to figure something out if he doesn’t come back.” It’s clear from her face that she doesn’t think he will and while his words – “ _I’ll always come back to my girl_ ” – echo in your head, your mind can’t help but linger on the pitying look she gives you before walking away.

Gracie comes to stand next to you, her hand gently prying open yours so she can lace her fingers with it.

“Don’t listen to her, honey”, she says. “He’s coming back. I know it.”

You look up at her, your eyes flooded with tears and when a few overflow and slide down your cheeks, she reaches up to brush them away.

“Come on”, she coaxes, tugging you off the stool. “Let’s go up and pack your room.”

Upstairs, her body and her mouth never stop; one helping you gather your things, the other a constant stream of reassurances. She tells you how lucky you are to not have to work anymore, how much your other customers are going to miss you, teasing you about how envious of your newfound life of leisure she is and when you are all moved into the small room, she comes to sit with you on the bed.

“You okay, honey?”, she asks and when you don’t answer, she winds her arm around your waist, guiding your head to rest on her shoulder.

“I am”, you reply softly, the events of the day taking their toll as your eyes slide shut. “I think I just wanna be alone for a while.”

You feel the soft press of her lips on your forehead before she pulls back, brushing her fingers under your chin until you look at her. “You come get me if you need me, okay? Just like always.”

You nod, thanking her for helping you and she smiles at you, giving you a wink before getting up to leave.

It’s still the afternoon, the sun shining into the bedroom through the sole window and you stretch out onto the bed, settling into the warm beam of sunlight. Tucking your arm under your head, you roll onto your side and drawing your knees up to your chest, you wonder when he’ll be back.

“If” your mind interjects, the face of the madam floating behind your eyelids as you try to fall asleep and you push the thought away.

Not if; when. 


End file.
